


Imperfect Boys with Their Perfect Lives

by black_dipped_roses



Category: Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-05-04 12:45:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5334578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/black_dipped_roses/pseuds/black_dipped_roses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>25 year old, hardworking musician: Patrick Stump takes the early train home after pulling an all-nighter at the music studio. He's tired and, really, all he wants to do is sleep. Will fate allow him this simple mercy? Of course not. No, fate made Patrick find a guy watching porn on his train, almost start a fight, get practically molested, have a tiny gay crisis, and get the guy responsible for all of it's number- in the span of a few hours really early in the damn morning. Patrick just wanted a fucking nap. And what did he get instead? Pete fucking Wentz.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. From This Day Forward

**Author's Note:**

> This work is based off a manga. This is most definitely not my writing style, but the entire time I read this manga I could not help but imagine Pete and Patrick as the two main characters. The idea is not my own, but I have embellished and changed a few things. THIS MIGHT BE A TRIGGER FOR SOME BECAUSE THERE IS SLIGHT, BUT NOT REALLY, NON-CON. By "slight, but not really, non-con" I mean the main character was not really "taken advantage of" because he consented during the activity, and it really isn't non-con like sex. But if you are triggered by this please do not read!
> 
> Readers Key:  
> "TEXT" - aloud dialogue  
> 'TEXT' - thoughts  
> *TEXT* - flashback

After a grueling all-nighter all Patrick wants to do is climb into his bed and sleep for three weeks. But while he is on the train he is not in his bed in a coma like state sleeping for three weeks, so he also really wants the fucking train doors to close.

"At least the early morning view is beautiful," Patrick mutters to himself scowling at the sun shining in his eyes.

'When's my next holiday' Patrick wonders attempting to count the time on his fingers then giving up as he passed ten fingers, 'It's too early in the morning to be doing math. I need to get home and sleep. Oh, shit it's garbage day; I have to separate the plastics from the regular trash,' Patrick groans at that thought.

"Ahhn, mmh, ahh," Comes a familiar moan.

'That's not . . . Oh god I must be going insane. I've overworked myself, and now I have schizophrenia, awesome. This is an _amazing_ development,'

"Ahh, no Mister Conductor. If you stick that in . . ."

'Wait, no, that's- that's not in my head!' Patrick's eyes widen comically, "That's that porno with Maja!" Patrick whisper yelled surprised.

"I'm gonna cum! I'm gonna cum! Ahhh! Ahh!"

Patrick starts laughing quietly, 'I can hear the AV he's listening to from his headphones; they must not be plugged in correctly. Oh my god that's so dorky!'

'Good thing I'm the only other person on this train,' Patrick decided to see who it was and tell the kid his video is playing out loud, 'That poor virgin probably doesn't even know . . .'

Patrick stops dead in his tracks when, instead of some wimpy unimposing kid, he finds a fairly built good-looking guy. He had black hair, golden brown eyes, and looked absolutely amazing in that tight white shirt and black jean combo. The leather jacket around his shoulders didn't make the look any worse either.

'What the hell? This guy looks like a model!' Patrick's jaw did _not_ drop.

Patrick  _subconsciously_ (he swears) looks down at the mans lap, 'And he's not even reacting to watching porn? He has no bulge what-so-ever! Who is this guy?!'

"Ahh, Mist-Mister Con-Con-AHHHHH"

'Oh shit,' Patrick looks to his own lap after sitting down to find a bulge, 'I need to calm down. I'm not a fucking teenager!'

"Hey you." Patrick looks up to see the guy staring at him with narrowed eyes.

'Oh shit did he see me stare at him?'

"What're you looking at?" Well that answers Patrick's question.

"You looking for a fight?" No, no Patrick was definitely not.

Patrick's eyes widened. He tried to say no and apologize, but nothing would come out.

'No don't get up. Shit. Talk stupid! Don't just continue staring! Fuck you mouth! You have a boner, and a guy is about to beat you up! Get your fucking act together Patrick!'

The man pulled Patrick out of his seat and immediately noticed Patrick's arousal.

Patrick pulled his arm out of the man's hold, "You got hard just looking at me? Weird."

'What?! Oh hell no I didn't!'

"N-No! Your audio is leaking!" Patrick's face was currently impersonating a tomato, "The . . . porn . . . made me hard," Patrick answered quietly.

"Oh, huh, I must not have plugged it in properly," The man looked at his phone, pushed the plug securely in, then turned his attention back to Patrick.

Patrick noticed in the corner of his eye the train door open and saw his chance, "Yeah, so that's what happened now if you could excuse me?" Patrick proceeded to dart out the door but was stopped by a hand grabbing his shoulder as soon as he hit what he thought was home free.

"I don't get how you can get hard from that. It seems like an interesting problem. And I'm a curious guy, so you should show me." The man smirked.

"Huh-huh?" Patrick stuttered his mind going blank until he realized exactly what this man wanted.

"L-Let go of me!" Patrick shouted when the man began to pull him away to god knows where.

When the man didn't let go of Patrick, Patrick yelled, "M-Molester!"

"Molester? Really? If you didn't want this to happen you would put up more of a fight than just asking for me to let you go," The man stated cheekily calm.

"I'm out of energy!" Patrick said defensively.

The man reached his presumed destination and opened the bathroom door pulling Patrick into a stall and setting him on a closed lid toilet.

The man's hand landed next to Patrick's head on the wall, "Looks like my video has caused you some problems," The man grinned deviously, "I'll take full responsibility for it since I'm a professional."

"A-A professional?" Patrick didn't know someone could be a professional rapist.

"I'm an adult host," The man smirked.

"Let go of me!" Patrick tried to jump up and run away but was stopped by the man's hand on his shoulder.

"Hey don't struggle. If you're that scared I won't go through with it," The man palmed Patrick's crotch, and Patrick had to admit that it felt good. Good enough for him to loose most of the fight in him for a moment giving the man enough time to pull Patrick's dick out of it's confinement.

"You've got a cute dick," the man stated as if one would normally mention this in casual conversation.

The man began pumping Patrick's dick, thumbing the slit.

"Ahhn," Patrick couldn't help himself; it felt incredible to be touched by someone else when you've only ever been touched by yourself.

"How nice for you. Virgins are so sensitive," The man continued his tirade on Patrick's dick leaning in to suck hickeys into Patrick's neck.

After almost ten minutes the pressure in Patrick's lower abdomen finally uncoiled. "Ahh, I-I'M CUMMING!" Patrick yelled as he spurted on the man's hand.

"Huh, you held out longer than expected," the man mentioned.

"And here," The man pushed a finger inside Patrick. Patrick yelled mostly in surprise but also in an odd mixture of uncomfortable pleasure as the thought this semi-taboo made a small thrill run through him, which the man must have noticed as he smirked, "You're sensitive here too."

"Hnnn" Patrick moaned when the man began to move his finger in and out. The thought that the finger was lubricated with his own cum came to Patrick's mind, and, against his will, his dick twitched.

"You're hard again Mr. Virgin. You like this don't you? Having something inside you." The man smirked.

"No I don't!" Patrick yelled indignantly.

"Really? Then why are you hard?" The man full on grinned at him.

"You're stimulating my prostate! I biologically have to get hard!" Patrick squeaked when the man put in another finger, making the man chuckle deeply.

"Well," The man stopped moving, and Patrick held in a whine of protest, "If you really don't want this then here's your out."

Patrick bucked down slightly, too embarrassed to answer in the negative.

"You want another one?" The man asked grinning.

"Hnnn," Patrick couldn't bring himself to really respond.

The man chuckled, "I'll take that as a yes," The man pushed in another finger.

'Oh god what am I doing?! I'm straight! This-I have a man's fucking hand up my ass! What the fuck am I doing?! I should be running or at least protesting! This isn't supposed to feel good! Why the _fuck_ did I not take the out?!'

"I-I don't like it stop! This is dis-gusting!" Patrick didn't have a single problem with gays, don't get him wrong, but he wasn't gay. Or at least that's what he told himself.

"Even as you say that, your body says something very different. You're dripping with precum. And you love it, don't you? I gave you an out, and you didn't take it," The man whispered into Patrick's hair before licking the shell of his ear.

Patrick hadn't even noticed his dick had hardened again. At this point he knew he wasn't going to get away. This man was going to have his way with him.

So logically he might as well make his first time good. . .

Is what Patrick is going to tell himself to help him sleep at night.

Patrick turned to the man, face no doubt red from exertion and the thought of what he was about to do, "Ahh, park it in my station."

For one horrible minute Patrick thought the man was going to leave right then and there with him in this state as the man's eyes widened, 'Have I gone insane?! What the fuck was I thinking?! Referencing the fucking porno. You can't ruin the mood more quickly then by doing that, you fucking idiot! Oh, what the fuck? I only resigned myself to have a good first time because I was sure I couldn't get away, but if I can why am I worried he'll leave me? That's what I want! Oh god. I have Stockholm Syndrome.'

"This really pisses me off," The man glared at him.

'Oh shit not only are you going to be left in this demeaning state, but he's also going to beat you up! Fuck!' Patrick's eyes widened, and he gulped, preparing to beg for his life.

"I'm hard from that," the man sounded completely serious, and when Patrick looked down the man's statement was confirmed.

"H-Hard?" Patrick sputtered.

"Sorry but it's been a while, so I won't be able to hold back," The man stated pulling out a condom.

"Wh-What?" Patrick seemed to be _quite_ the wordsmith in this state.

The man rolled the condom on his dick after taking it out and positioned it in front of Patrick's entrance.

"I-I can't. Th-That won't fit! Don't try that!" Patrick, for a moment, completely forgot this was not a consensual experience; he stupidly forgot that he had no control over what was happening. He was sure the man was going to hurt him for becoming testy, but instead he-

"Pushy, I like it." The man grinned, "Besides it's already in." Patrick hadn't noticed him slip in while he was glaring at the man, but now that he was in there was no doubt that this man was inside Patrick.

"Sh- Shut up!" Patrick glared while, admittedly, simultaneously  marveling at the fact he hadn't noticed an actual body part entering him.

"Never. And I think it's my turn to be pushy," The man said as he took Patrick's wrists into his hand and pinned them to the wall.

The man began thrusting in and out at a fast pace leaving Patrick breathless and uncomfortable in his current position. The man must have noticed Patrick's discomfort because he picked Patrick up, sat on the toilet seat, placed Patrick in his lap, on his dick, and picked up Patrick's legs by the knees.

Patrick came as soon as the man slid back in. After said, relatively embarrassing, orgasm he collapsed bonelessly into the stranger noticing the man came too.

"Hey don't rest yet. I haven't had sex in two months. There's no way I'd be satisfied after just one round," The man began thrusting again. But this time around he unbuttoned Patrick's shirt and began tweaking Patrick's nipples.

"I . . . just came . . . please . . . stop," Patrick tried in vain.

"You better take responsibility for making me like this," The man said as he pounded into Patrick.

'That's so unreasonable!' Patrick screamed in his mind and out loud, but the two screams sounded completely different.

"I don't . . . ev . . . en know your naaaame," Patrick didn't know why he was still fighting at this point.

"Pete," The man stated.

"What?" Patrick couldn't really focus on what the man was saying while he fucked Patrick open.

"My names Pete," The man - Pete - gritted out, strained from the sex and his upcoming orgasm.

This is right around the point where things start to crash into reality.

'A guy named Pete has his dick up my ass, and I'm enjoying it. I just wanted to go home and sleep. Why is this happening?' This thought would have hit Patrick much harder had Pete not slammed into his prostate forcing his orgasm to happen at that exact moment. Or maybe the thought had influenced his orgasm's timing. Patrick was not going to analyze it because he was cumming so hard he blacked out.

And he plainly never wanted to analyze it.

 

PXP

 

Pete pulled the water bottle out of the vending machine and sat it down next to Patrick's unconscious head resting on the bench. He was about to sit next to Patrick when his phone began ringing.

"You missed your meeting with Smith." Came an annoyingly, in Pete's opinion, calm voice.

"Shit! Did you reschedule?" Pete cursed.

"I did. You need to be there in 30 minutes. And don't be mad about the time; Spencer is especially pissy today. Ryan says it's because he hasn't gotten laid in a while, and he's, and I quote, 'Crushing harder than a twelve year old girl' on this guy he sees at Starbucks but always 'just misses him'," Still annoyingly calm.

"Ugh, Andy . . ." Pete sighed.

"Don't even with me. I saved your ass," Andy hung up promptly after that.

"Well, looks like I'm going out after all today," Pete commented before laying his jacket over Patrick and slipping his card under the water bottle next to Patrick's unconscious head.

PXP

"Sir are you alright?" came a voice that startled him out of his dreamless sleep.

"Huh? Oh, oh god, yes, I'm sorry," This was the exact point where reality fully crashed down onto Patrick.

'I slept with a random guy from a train. I slept with a _random guy._ I slept with a _guy_! I lost my virginity to a man!' It's at this point that Patrick notices the water and card:

 **FRONT** -

                       Pete Wentz

                             Host                           

 Pete_Wentz_III@mailer.com

Fall Out Boyz @ 307 Brookfield Lane

**BACK** -

     _I_ _f you're free we can do this again_

                      _Call Me_

_555-000-6669_

 

 

"He has got to be fucking kidding me."

 

 

 

 

 


	2. To Have and To Hold

"Oh shit Patrick! I'm sorry man." Vicky grimaced passing a clean rag to Patrick so that he could wipe her mashed potatoes off his face.

"Don't worry about it Vicky. Happens all the time," Patrick got up after taking the rag and walked to the bathroom sighing. 'Why does this kind of stuff happen to me all the time? Just last week a bird shit in my hair, and then there was the . . . guy thing', against his will, a small thrill ran through him, and Patrick grimaced at his body's involuntary action.

Patrick walked down the hall until he hit a dead end turning to the last door on the left. But before he could open the bathroom door it swung open hitting Patrick in the nose.

 

PXP

 

"Today really isn't my fucking day," Patrick sighed while he held a handful of paper towels up to his nose to stop the bleeding.

"I'm really sorry, Patrick," Brendon sniffled staring at the floor looking every bit too much like a kicked puppy.

"No, no, Brendon it's okay. It was an accident I've just had a bad week okay? I'm fine, and I'm not mad," Patrick pulled the paper towels away for a moment and smiled at Brendon.

"You had a bad week; what happened?" Brendon looked at Patrick with such innocent concern that Patrick almost told him everything, but then he realized he'd rather just not talk about it and shrugged Brendon off, "Nothing really big just an accumulation of things."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Brendon fidgeted then asked in a smaller voice,  "Do I ask about the mashed potatoes, or do I pretend they're not there?"

Patrick sighed, "Vicky accidently spilled mashed potatoes all over me."

Brendon winced, "You really have had a bad day. Has your nose stopped bleeding yet?"

"Yeah, I think so," Patrick pulled the paper towel away and took more paper towels out of the bin, wet them, then attempted to exorcise his hair of mashed potatoes.

"Hey, Brendon I'm fine now; you can go back to work," Patrick commented while checking for any stray clumps of mashed potatoes.

Brendon's eyes widened, "Oh, fudge! Work!" and he ran out of the bathroom.

"I believe what you meant to say was ' _Oh, fuck! Work!_ '" Patrick laughed following Brendon out of the bathroom.

 

PXP

 

 " _You got your virginity stolen by a pervert on a train?!_ " Mikey fell on the ground laughing.

Patrick kicked him, but it didn't stop Mikey's laughter.

"Shut the fuck up! This isn't funny!" Patrick whisper yelled indignantly (They are at work after all; You can't yell in an office building).

"But it really is! It sounds like something that came out of an erotic novel!" Mikey whisper yelled back.

Patrick just huffed glaring at Mikey.

"Was she at least hot?" Mikey asked calming down but smiling wryly.

Patrick didn't really know what to say. Mikey is his friend so he should probably tell him it was a man, but, then again, Mikey is a dick. So- "Mikey just shut the fuck up, and go back to work."

Mikey chuckled but he complied. Because he isn't _always_ a dick, he's actually pretty cool most of the time.

 

PXP

 

"Okay, dude, yes you got your virginity stolen, and I'm sure it was very traumatic, but, man, you gotta quit sulking; you're bumming the whole office out. Even Brendon's not acting chipper, and Brendon's _always_ really fucking chipper. He's like the fucking sun, man, and you're like clouds. Usually you're all calm and happy, but now you're all sad and depressing. So I called the 'Here To Keep Patrick Busy Squad!' " Mikey looked apologetic so Patrick knew this wasn't good.

"Who's the 'Here To Keep Patrick Bu-" Is all Patrick could say before Brendon came bounding into the room.

"Patrick!" He smiled brightly, "You have a visitor."

"I have a- Who is it?" Patrick felt a little better all ready until-

"Yo," Black pants, tight white shirt, leather jacket. It's Pete. Pete the fucking rapist.

Patrick gaped, "What the hell are _you_ doing he-"

"Why the hell did you not come to my shop?" Pete growled out looking mad, which in Patrick's opinion he had no right to look, "Even though I gave you my card and asked to see you again."

"How did you find my office?!" Patrick still could not believe that his fucking _rapist_ is in his work place.

"We exchanged cards, remember?" Pete raised an eyebrow unimpressed.

"Exchanged?! You mean you stole my card while I was unconscious!" Patrick was furious.

"You didn't contact me for two weeks," Pete pulled a chair away from a random desk and sat in it, "I didn't expect you to be gutsy enough to throw me aside after a one night stand with such amazing sex you passed out."

Mikey looked at Patrick incredulously mouthing out "One night stand? Sex?"

"You're insane! I have no clue what you're talking about!" pulling Pete out of the chair Patrick dragged him into an empty office area.

"What the fuck are you trying to do?! Following me all the way here!" Patrick fisted Pete's shirt, glaring as hard as he could.

"Technically you dragged me here," Pete commented calmly, the smug bastard.

"You know that's not what I'm fucking talking about!" Patrick knew for a fact that he was a force to be reckoned with when he's angry. Right now he's down right homicidal.

"There's something I want to confirm," Pete commented moving out of Patrick's grasp over to the door and locking it.

"What? I returned the jacket; you got what you wanted out of me. There should be no reason you need to talk to me," Patrick crossed his arms never lightening his glare.

Pete didn't even look up; he picked up a sheet of paper off the table and began making a paper airplane.

"You sure you're in the position to be talking to me like that?" Pete questioned impervious to Patrick's animosity.

 Pete then threw the paper airplane at Patrick in an (in Patrick's opinion) incredibly childish display of dominance; for a moment Patrick was reminded of little boys pulling on little girls pigtails when they like them, but he immediately purged the idea from his mind.

As Patrick's brain capacity was otherwise occupied with purging thoughts, it took him a moment to realize Pete had begun speaking again, "As I am in a position where I could tell all of your co-workers how much you like getting off on being fucked by another man."

Pete, the bastard, smirked.

Patrick is not stupid; he knows no matter how strong his glare is he cannot beat Pete at this mind game. And no matter how much he wants to beat Pete, maybe literally, he knows the bastard, _who is still making paper airplanes_ , has already won.

Patrick has no ace up his sleeve, and he really should accept defeat, but Patrick is someone who absolutely refuses to be beaten, "Look, there's nothing really grand about me, so there really is no reason to waste your time on me."

Pete stared at Patrick for a long moment, thinking. He then got up from his previous seat on the table and collected all of the five paper airplanes, laying them out in a row on the table.

"Look I'm feeling kind. Let's make a bet. If  **you** win, I'll disappear; you'll never see me again. But if **I** win, you will have to listen and take into consideration one thing I will say to you. Deal?" Pete raised an eyebrow challengingly, just _daring_ Patrick to accept.

One thing that Patrick will later today look back on as a fatal flaw is his inability to repudiate a challenge, "You're on."

Patrick smirked mirroring Pete's challenging gaze.

Patrick will one day, in the quite distant future, look back on this moment and wonder how he never noticed how much he liked challenges, especially when they're provided by provided by Pete, but Pete is a challenge all on his own.

"Choose one of the paper airplanes," Pete swept his arm in a grand gesture to show off the paper airplanes, smirking.

 

PXP

 

"Patrick!"

"Hey, sorry I took so long," Patrick slowly, cautiously sunk down into his office chair.

"It's okay man. Are you okay? Who was that guy?" Mikey looked truly concerned, and Patrick took a moment to appreciate the fact that he had friends like Mikey.

"He was just some crazy guy. I'm fine everything is . . . dealt with," Patrick assured, hoping he was convincing enough to settle Mikey's worries.

'Oh god, to think one to five referred to the speed of a vibrator.'

 

*Patrick is on top of a table, on all fours with his ass in the air, while Pete inserts a small vibrator, turned to speed 3, into Patrick's ass.

"Here is my address. When you get off work come to my shop. If you can endure this vibrator until it's taken out, you win. _But_ , if you cum anytime before then, it's my win."

Patrick pulled up his pants, buckled his belt, and carefully sat down in a chair trying to keep some semblance of dignity.

"This is a workplace! It becomes quiet enough to hear a pin drop less than ten minutes after nine until less than ten minutes after five everyday. _People will hear the vibration_ ," Patrick huffed indignantly.

"As long as you act completely normal you'll be completely fine," Pete smirked, "Besides, as you so love to point out: you're straight, this shouldn't affect you at all, right?"

Patrick mumbled 'bastard' under his breath.

"Oh, and this," Pete plucked Patrick's phone from him, "I'll be taking this."

"What the hell?!" Patrick actually felt betrayed for a moment, 'First you take my virginity, now you take my phone, what's next?'

"Don't worry I'm not stealing it. Here," Pete's phone landed in Patrick's lap, "You can use mine if you need it."

"Why are you taking my phone?" Patrick raised an accusing eyebrow.

"Because now you have to come to my place or else you'll be without your phone. I'm not stupid. You could just go home and forget this ever happened if I didn't have anything to hold you to your promise," Pete stated matter-of-factly.

Even Patrick had to admit that was smart.

Patrick sighed and simply said fine.

This would be over soon anyways.*

 

'At least work is quiet today.' And of course with that thought all hell broke loose.

"Patrick!" An average sized male with bright red hair came running up to Patrick while a slightly shorter male, with black hair and a blue streak, followed dutifully behind him.

"We neeeeeeeed your hellllllllp!"

 "The 'Keep Patrick Busy Squad' consists of Gerard, Frank, and Brendon doesn't it," Patrick glared at Mikey.

 "I'm sorry dude, but it's for the good of the office. Think of the children," Mikey began typing on is laptop again.

 "What children?" Patrick deadpanned.

 "Um, Brendon?" Mikey gave him a sympathetic look when Frank pulled Patrick's chair out of his desk and pushed it to the other side of the office, with Patrick still sitting on it, to have Patrick magically fix all of their problems.

 "I'm sorry!" Mikey called after him actually looking sincere, as he should because no one, absolutely no one, wants to try to fix one of Frank and Gerard's infamous fuck ups.

 

PXP

 

"What the hell did you guys do?!" After staring at the screen and monitors for six minutes without any of his troubleshooting even slightly working Patrick had no fucking clue what these two did.

"We don't know," Gerard said exasperated.

"Okay take me through, step by step, every single fucking thing you did," Patrick turned to look at Frank and Gerard.

Frank and Gerard gulped because Patrick is very scary when he's angry.

Surprisingly Frank spoke up, "Gee and I were listening to this track, seeing what we needed to edit, that kind of stuff, when my scarf got stuck in the wheel of my chair that I was spinning in, so I fell over and hit a few keys on the keyboard and a few buttons on the monitor, and the screen turned black, and weird scratchy audio started coming out of the speakers. Gee tried to fix it by pressing a few things then error messages and color strips started popping up on the screen."

"Did you call up the tech guys?" Patrick sighed.

"Yes," Gerard nodded.

"What did they say?" Patrick looked at the buttons on the monitor trying to determine what the hell Gerard could have pressed that would have this effect.

"That the computer was fucked seven ways to Sunday and that they'll have to get us a new computer," Frank shrugged.

"Then what could I possibly do to help?!" Patrick was tired and angry and annoyed; today _really_ wasn't a good day for Patrick.

"About the computer?" At Patrick's glare Frank continued, "Nothing."

"Then what the fuck do you need me for?!" Patrick was practically vibrating with rage.

"I lost the hard drive that had our complete editing somewhere in the office building. We need help finding it," Frank shrugged like he hadn't just wasted an hour and thirty minutes of Patrick's life on something that wasn't actually what they needed him for.

"No. No, no, no. No. No. I have been here for an hour and thirty minutes trying to help you guys with something you don't need help with. Frank, Gerard, it is nine thirty-three I'm going home," Patrick got up, trying to stay calm enough to not punch one or both of them.

"Wait but what about helping us find the drive?" Gerard asked moving to block Patrick from the exit.

Patrick stopped glaring at the floor to look up at Gerard and Frank, "Just re-" Patrick stopped because on the ground by their desk was something that looked an awful lot like a drive.

"Is it that?" Patrick pointed at the object on the ground by the desk.

"Oh. Uh. That's funny. Yes, that would be the hard drive." Frank picked up the drive.

Patrick took a deep breath in held it for three seconds then released it. The only thing really keeping him from murdering Gerard and Frank was the fact that Patrick would never hear the end of it if he went to jail with a vibrator up his ass.

"I'm leaving. Okay? Bye." and Patrick might have ran out of the office after that.

 

PXP

 

Patrick was currently sitting in a taxi after deciding he probably wouldn't last through a train ride (and, no matter the cost, he couldn't let Pete win) when the taxi hits a bump making the phone in Patrick's pocket fly into the back of the seat in front of him.

"Shit," Patrick grimaced picking up the phone from the floor of the taxi, idly checking for injuries (or rather the phone equivalent).

It's around the moment in between Patrick insuring he didn't just break Pete's phone and turning it on that Patrick realizes he has Pete's phone in his possession.

Patrick knows it's quite unethical for him to open Pete's phone and meddle with Pete's business, but then again so is rape . . .

So Patrick feels himself justified in looking through Pete's phone.

But then again . . .

 It wasn't really rape because Patrick was given the opportunity to leave.

Pete didn't force him to stay.

He is drawn to his previous conclusion:

He has Stockholm Syndrome.

"Goddamn it," Patrick growls at his own thoughts.

The phone Patrick's still holding lights up showing it has fully turned on as Pete's home screen pops into view.

Patrick looks at the phone then around the taxi warily.

"Well, who's gonna know?" With his resolve Patrick presses the Gallery icon.

Patrick admittedly expected to find a lot of things: nudes, girlfriends, friends, some 'host' girls, maybe a _few_ pictures of family.

If there is anything he really didn't expect it was literally everything in Pete's gallery.

Because Pete's gallery had thirty-one pictures, and thirty out of thirty-one of the pictures was of a little boy who looked so much like Pete he might as well have been his clone, save the boys blond hair and blue eyes.

And the thirty-first picture, well, that one was of a sleeping Patrick.

In the picture he looked peaceful- happy even.

Patrick subconsciously knew he should feel worried- disgusted even by Pete having a picture of him sleeping, but he couldn't.

Not when Patrick looked at how happy he was.

And Patrick was by no means vain, but even he had to admit he looked quite beatific.

Especially with the light floating over him casting a light glow over his skin.

Patrick didn't find it disgusting at all.

No, he found it endearing.

He's scrolling through the other thirty pictures in an attempt to discover the boys identity when Pete's phone lights up.

'Who's texting Pete at nine forty-five? Probably one of his many sex-hibitionists,' Patrick opens the message to see.

" _Sixteen_ missed texts?! From me?!" Patrick's eyes widened as he scrolled through the texts.

'-Yo

-Hey

-Where are you?

-You're ten minutes late

-R u coming??

-R u sick?

-Where are you??????

-Answer

-What r u doing

-Ur 40 mins late

-I have ur phone

-Did you get mugged or something?

-What the hell is taking u so long

-R u working late today

- =_=#

-I'm coming 2 ur office

"Oh shit!" Patrick whispered to himself getting out of messages and pressing the call button typing in his number.

Pete answered on the second ring, "Where are you?" Pete asked darkly.

"I'm in a taxi on my way to your workplace," Patrick whisper yells, "Please, dear god, tell me you didn't go back to my office."

"I didn't. I just texted you that," Patrick could see Pete's deadpan even over the phone.

"I'm sorry, but your kind of a maniac. I don't know the lengths you'd go to do something," Patrick rolls his eyes and hopes it's properly conveyed over the phone.

"Oh, don't get me wrong. I would have gone to your office; I just hadn't gotten to the train station yet when you called me," Pete says flippantly, as if that's a completely regular thing to say.

"I'm hanging up now."

"Wait, how far away are you?"

"No clue, bye," and with that Patrick hangs up feeling smug.

Until less than a minute later the taxi stops, and the driver says, "We're here," charging Patrick for the ride.

"Thank you," he calls out as he gets out of the taxi, because it's common courtesy, and the driver gave him a good deal.

Patrick walks up to Pete's workplace kind of expecting a male brothel type set up, but instead finds a man wearing a suit greeting him when he opens the door.

"Hello, Patrick right? I'm Andy. Pete's been expecting you; just walk down that hall, and its the first door on the right."

 

PXP

 

"I endured that thing all the way here. Give me my phone; here's yours. I'm leaving now," Patrick stated grabbing his phone out of Pete's hands and moving to leave.

"Wait. I need the vibrator," Pete's face was completely void of emotion, and his eyes seemed shielded.

"No problem. I'll go to the restroom, and I'll be right back," Patrick moved to the hallway restroom, but Pete pulled him back into the room.

"No need," Then he did something Patrick didn't expect in the least; he pinned Patrick onto the bed, pulled his pants down, then (quite literally) ripped the vibrator _out_ of Patrick.

Patrick practically shrieked, "What the fuuuuhhh-" the shriek turned into an moan as all of the pent up tension broke, making Patrick come.

"Huh, looks like I win after all," Pete smirked.

"That's not- You can't just- It doesn't-" Patrick stuttered.

"You wanna try finishing a sentence or . . .?" Pete is a douchebag, Patrick decides.

"Go fuck yourself. You can't just do that; that wasn't part of the bet!" Patrick  _really_ wanted to punch Pete.

Pete calmly raised an eyebrow, "Really? Because I recall my exact words being 'until it's taken out' not 'until you take it out'."

Patrick just glared.

"Well, it seems it's my win," Pete smiled an, albeit charming, wide smile.

"I'm going to murder you. I'll probably be doing the world a favor," Patrick felt oddly resigned, "I wonder if I could get that Andy guy outside to tell me what time you get coffee, because I'm a firm believer that poisoning is the way to go when murdering someone."

He blamed his calm attitude on how tired he was from . . . well everything.

And Pete, well, Pete looked . . . fond?

He was quietly chuckling at what Patrick was saying, "I'm sure Andy would love to help you murder me."

Pete leaned down and kissed Patrick almost . . . reverently?

Patrick was having a really hard time understanding what the hell was going on.

But he could understand one thing: Pete is kissing him, and Patrick is not supposed to like being kissed by Pete.

With that thought in mind Patrick tried to stop Pete, "Mmphh, stop."

"What?" Pete looked expectant, and Patrick realized he had no clue what to say.

So he said the first thing that came to mind, "Why do you have a bed in your office?"

'What the fuck am I doing? Am I making fucking _small talk_ with this guy?'

"Does this need to be discussed right now?" Pete mock-groaned, but he was smiling.

'What the fuck is happening right now?' Patrick could not fathom whatever-the-fuck this was.

"I don't have a bed in my office," Patrick was stalling; he didn't really know what he was stalling. But he knows he is stalling.

"Your office isn't that cool then," At Patrick's (heat-less) glare Pete continued, "This _is_ a host club. I don't do the sex part of it anymore, but I used to."

"So how many people have you had your wicked way with on this bed?" Patrick was . . . holy shit Patrick was _flirting._

"You'll be the first," Pete ducked down and kissed Patrick.

 

PXP

 

'I can't believe I did that,' Patrick paled as he thought about what had transpired.

 

*Pete’s slightly chapped but soft lips held Patrick’s own in an intoxicating embrace while drawing Patrick’s bottom lip teasingly into his mouth.

Pete slowly moved his right hand over Patrick’s left nipple and continuing down Patrick’s body leaving behind a trail of heat until stopping at Patrick’s thigh, slightly cupping it.

Patrick’s breath came out stuttered, and his back arched almost imperceptibly.

Pete’s mouth moved from Patrick’s lips to nip lightly at his jaw.

‘Why am I letting this happen . . . Why does it feel so good,’ Patrick felt conflicted.

The thing’s Pete has done to him haven’t been consensual; he’s supposed to hate Pete.

He should be terrified, disgusted, or just anything that’s not this . . .

This . . .

Excitement

This pleasure

This lust

Patrick’s body craved Pete’s touch, and his mind wasn’t objecting; even though it should be.

“Pete,” Patrick’s voice was weak and sounded more like a lover’s whisper than an objection.

Pete pulled his mouth away from its tirade on Patrick’s neck.

“This face that you make when I touch you; it’s intoxicating,” Pete claimed Patrick’s lips again, moving his hand under Patrick’s shirt.

Patrick huffed out a breath, “Pete”

Patrick’s lips were red and swollen while his breath was hot on Pete’s cheek.

Pete sat up, looking at Patrick with downright filthy bedroom eyes and a smirk for effect, to pull his shirt off slowly- teasingly.

“Patrick, do you like it when I’m on top of you- dominating you?” he then moved down Patrick’s body so that his mouth was right above the edge of Patrick’s pants.

“Pete- wh-,” Before Patrick could finish Pete began mouthing at the V line on his right hip turning his sentence into a faltered sharp breath.

Pete undid the first button on Patrick’s black button up, slowly marching kisses up his abdomen as Pete undid the buttons . . .*

 

Patrick's face turned an alarming shade of red.

"Hey, Patrick are you okay? Your face is really red," Pete looked concerned.

"I- I'm fine," Patrick looked down as he put on his sock.

As Patrick put on his other sock he noticed Pete was staring at him.

"What?" Patrick asked when Pete continued to stare at him.

 "Why don't you become mine?" Pete looked serious, "You said you would listen to one thing I have to say. Well, that's it."

Patrick has had a long day.

He has been pestered and pushed to his limits, and this was the straw that broke the camel's back.

The next day Patrick would vehemently deny that he fainted, but eventually he would aquisence and admit that he might have blacked out due to 'over exertion'.


	3. In Sickness and In Health

"102?" Patrick groaned, "That's not good."

"Achooo," Patrick sneezed a particularly terrible sneeze.

"This is entirely Pete's fault," Patrick croaked miserably in a quiet voice, as to not disrupt his aching throat.

'Ever since I lost that bet, Pete has made me go out with him eight times in the last week; I'm so tired. But that last time was obviously what got me sick,' Patrick's cheeks heated up at the thought of what had transpired the night before.

Patrick could recount in vivid detail how Pete took him in an alley behind the restaurant they ate at in the pouring rain.

'I have to eat something before I take any medicine,' Patrick walked to the refrigerator, but paused midway through the kitchen in a rough coughing fit.

When Patrick reached the refrigerator the sight that met his eyes almost made him cry; Patrick had a single onion and ketchup in the refrigerator.

That was it.

Patrick had a worrisomely clear vision of dying in his kitchen from starvation.

But, before Patrick could become too devastated, his phone began to ring.

Patrick's mood immediately brightened as, 'That's gotta be Brendon calling to save me from death.'

Patrick picked his phone up off of his nightstand, answering it, "Hello?"

"Yo," Patrick's mood soured even faster than it had brightened.

"I have a cold. So I can't come meet up with you or whatever because I'll probably die," Patrick said curtly ready to hang up immediately.

"You're sick? I'm coming over. You want anything to ea-" Patrick hung up before Pete could finish, content in the knowledge that Pete has no idea where his apartment is.

'How dare he,' Patrick thought angrily, 'Wanting to have sex with me while I'm obviously sick. What an asshole.'

"I'm gonna take a nap," Patrick whispered wearily before quickly sending a text to Brendon, asking for help, then passing out in his bed.

 

PXP

 

 Patrick awoke to his doorbell ringing.

'Oh thank god Brendon's here to save me,' Patrick opened the door fully expecting Brendon to be standing on the other side with sacks of medicine and food.

While there was someone standing at the door with sacks of something, it definitely wasn't Brendon.

"You hung up on me," Pete said in place of a greeting.

"How are you even here?" Patrick whispered.

"I installed a GPS tracker on your phone the first time we switched phones just in case you decided to take off," Pete shrugged nonchalantly as if people say those words, in that order, all the time.

"Are you kidding me?! Who said you could do that?!" Patrick yelled, then immediately became woozy.

"Shit," Patrick whispered holding his head before stumbling and falling.

Before Patrick could hit the ground Pete quickly wrapped his left arm around Patrick's waist while his right arm came up to support Patrick's back.

"Hey you can't yell like that; you become too light-headed too easily. Here let's at least sit you down on the couch," Pete whispered beginning to walk Patrick to the couch in the living room.

After assisting Patrick to the couch Pete walked over to the doorway where he had dropped the sacks he was carrying in favor of catching Patrick.

Then he walked to the kitchen, sacks in hand, and threw an "I'm gonna borrow your kitchen for a bit" over his shoulder.

"Huh?" Patrick asked quietly, confused.

"You should eat even if you don't feel like it. You'll recover faster," Pete pulled an apple out of one of the sacks he had sat on the counter.

Patrick was still confused.

'Did he come because he was worried?' Patrick furrowed his eyebrows, 'That's- does he actually . . . care?'

Patrick was so deep in thought he didn't notice Pete walking up to him.

Pete laid his hand against Patrick's forehead, "You're forehead's too hot. Here," Pete then carefully pushed Patrick's bangs back and fixed a cooling pad to his forehead, "that should help you."

Pete must have noticed Patrick's confusion because he sighed slightly before grabbing an apple slice off the cutting board he had been using and feeding it to Patrick.

"Look I said you were mine, so it's my responsibility to take good care of you," Pete wrapped his right arm around Patrick's waist while his left arm pulled Patrick's own over his shoulders, "Come on, show me to your bedroom. You need to rest."

Patrick began walking slowly to his room, reassessing Pete in his mind the entire time.

After setting Patrick on the bed Pete walked off to the kitchen.

Patrick's apartment had a fairly open layout so really Pete just walked across the hall.

"Pete's actually really caring," Patrick whispered to himself in disbelief.

"I've had a lot of practice," Pete responded, mixing something in a bowl while turned away from Patrick, "My son used to get sick a lot when he was younger."

"Son?" Patrick asked quietly, hoping it wasn't a bad memory.

"Huh, that's a better reaction than I expected," Pete turned to face Patrick, "Yeah, I have a son. I don't see him enough anymore though."

Patrick decided Pete probably wouldn't appreciate him prying, so he decided on simply saying, "I'm sorry," sincerely.

"Not your fault, so there's no reason to apologize," Pete muttered, stirring the contents of the bowl in his arms a little harder.

Before Patrick could stop himself he asked, "Is that the boy you have so many pictures of?"

"Did you go through my phone," Pete seemed more amused than mad.

"I wanted to make sure you weren't a murderer or something, and you have no room to talk! You put a GPS tracker _on my phone_!" Patrick whisper yelled indignantly.

"I wanted to make sure you weren't a murderer or something," Pete mocked in a teasing voice.

"Shut up," Patrick huffed.

"To answer your question: Yeah, that's my son," Pete smiled fondly thinking of his son.

"He's adorable," Patrick smiled at Pete.

"Thanks," Pete looked down at the food he had been making, "Okay, I think this is done."

Pete handed Patrick a bowl of oatmeal with honey, apples, and cinnamon.

It looked delicious.

Patrick thanked Pete then dipped his spoon into the food, taking a bite.

Patrick practically moaned like a porn star.

"This is _divine_ ," Patrick said before realizing how hot it was, "Ow ow ow, hot!"

"Here, give me that," Pete took the bowl and spoon scooping some out then blowing on it.

"Here," Pete held the spoon up to Patrick.

Patrick thanked god his fever blush covered up his current blush.

"I'm a grown man," Patrick mumbled.

"You just burned yourself," Pete raised an unimpressed eyebrow, still holding the spoon up to Patrick's mouth.

Patrick huffed before opening his mouth and taking the proffered food.

'Why is he being so nice to me?' Patrick wondered while Pete fed him, 'He usually treats me like some sex toy.'

 

PXP

 

"Here," Pete sat a water bottle down on Patrick's bedside table, "There's towels, water, and cooling pads right next to you for when you need them."

"There's nothing left for me to do, and you need rest," Pete stood from his crouched position.

Patrick subconsciously tightened the covers around himself.

"Are you trying to tease me?" Pete wiggled his eyebrows, leaning over Patrick.

"No, I covered myself subconsciously!" Patrick whispered indignantly.

"I thought you were the worst kind of guy," Patrick yawned, "You disregarded time, place, and my feelings to have sex with me."

"But you're actually a really good caretaker," Patrick whispered quietly as he drifted off into unconsciousness, but, right before he fully fell asleep, he realized what he had just said.

"So bye, safe trip," Patrick turned away from Pete's wide eyes.

"Actually, I think I'll stay here, since going home in the rain is so bothersome," Pete sat on the side of the bed pulling his shoes off.

"Huh?" Patrick turned over to see Pete pull the covers up and get under them.

"Hey, get your own bed," Patrick said quite petulantly.

Pete didn't even dignify him with a response.

He simply snaked his arm under Patrick and pulled him onto his chest.

"You'd make a great body pillow," Pete murmured quietly.

"Hey, let go of me," Patrick whispered trying to push away before quickly realizing he was too weak.

"Shh, pillows don't talk," was the last thing Patrick heard before helplessly giving in to dreamless oblivion.

 

PXP

 

   
Pete woke up slowly to an abnormal heat on his right side.

"Mmm," Pete moved to sit up but was held down by a weight he quickly realized was Patrick.

Pete looked down to see Patrick sweating profusely.

Pete moved Patrick slightly and sat up, "Here, do you want some water?"

Pete tried to give Patrick some water, but Patrick moaned and fell back into unconsciousness.

"Patrick, you really need to drink something," Pete looked around for a moment before picking up a cooling pad, placing it over Patrick's forehead.

Pete looked at the water for a moment then decided there was really only one way to get Patrick to drink water.

"Patrick, Patrick, you gotta sit up for me," Pete pulled Patrick to sit in between his legs and lean on his chest.

Patrick moaned a bit while Pete took a swig of the water.

Pulling Patrick's face to his own, he kissed Patrick until Patrick willingly opened his mouth leaving Pete with an opening.

"Mmm," Patrick moaned while Pete pushed water into his mouth.

Pete smiled taking another swig of water pulling Patrick to him again sharing a long slow kiss.

"I knew you only came over to do that," Patrick whispered weakly.

Pete looked at Patrick's flushed cheeks, delicate face, emerald green eyes, and golden hair and felt completely and utterly entranced.

"Patrick," Pete surged forward to kiss Patrick, unbuttoning his shirt in the process.

"I'm sick," Patrick whispered threw a moan.

"I know. I'm getting rid of your sweat," Pete rubbed a towel over Patrick's chest.

"You're still kissing me," Patrick arched his back as Pete ran the towel over his nipples.

"I am," Pete kissed Patrick again.

 

PXP

 

"Mmh," Patrick awoke feeling a lot less sick.

Images of the dream Patrick had last night came flooding back.

Images of Pete slowly worshiping his body with kisses, nips, and licks.

Golden eyes running in appreciation over his body.

Patrick felt hot under the collar, and it had nothing to do with his previous sickness.

Patrick turned over only to come face to face with Pete, "Morning."

"Ahh!" Patrick yelled, body thrashing backwards and subsequently slipping off the bed.

Pete looked over the edge of the bed at the heap of pillows, blankets, and Patrick, and he really couldn't help but laugh.

Patrick glared at him, "Why were you just staring at me?"

Before Pete could respond his phone buzzed.

Pete checked his phone and realized he was late for work.

"You must be feeling better if you're able to jump three feet in the air at nine in the morning, so I'm off," Pete got up and grabbed his shoes.

"Hmm?" Patrick wondered still slightly dazed.

"You don't need to see me off; just lock the door," Pete called over his shoulder as he opened the apartment door.

"Wait," Patrick got up and grabbed the edge of Pete's sleeve, "You were really kind to me. You helped me when I didn't really want your help, and you're not as terrible as I thought so . . . thank you. I'm sorry I thought you were a horrible guy because you're not. You're actually caring when you're not trying to have sex, so yeah, thank you again."

Patrick moved to return to his room, but Pete cupped his chin before he could turn away.

Pete hovered his lips just above Patrick's before delicately placing his forehead against Patrick's.

"You've still got a bit of a fever," Pete kissed Patrick's forehead and turned back to the door, "Heat up the soup I left in the microwave and rest."

Patrick watched as Pete closed the door behind him, heart pounding and feeling oddly warm to none of his sickness' accord.

'It must have been the dream I had last night,' Patrick walked back to his room, catching his reflection as he got into bed, "Wait when did I change?"

Patrick's eyes widened, "That- that wasn't a dream?"

 

PXP

 

"Every. Single. Fucking. Hour." Patrick grumbled.

"I mean who does that?! People like this don't exist! Not even good spouses do this kind of shit now-a-days!" Patrick ranted, walking in a circle around his couch, clutching his phone tightly to his ear.

"Pete doesn't even like me! It makes no sense. Really, who cares enough to call every hour to check in and make sure you're okay when you're sick? Hmm? Hmm? That's right nobody," Patrick fell onto his couch in a tired heap.

"Patrick," Mikey sighed.

"I just don't get it, Mikey," Patrick finished his rant.

"Look, Patrick, the kind of person who does that is someone that . . . really cares about you. I don't think you understand Pete's feelings toward you, and I don't think you understand your own feelings toward Pete. I mean, come on Patrick. He cooks for you, waits on hand and foot for you, kisses you, has sex with you, cuddles you. Patrick he is _dating_ you," Mikey ran his hand through his hair in exasperation.

"I don't have feelings for Pete. I'm just confused. I mean I went through that traumatic event and anal sex feels good. So my mind is just twisting things in weird directions. Plenty of straight people have anal sex because it feels good, and plenty of people who go through traumatic events start to develop feelings because of their brain trying to rationalize the situation. I just need some time away from Pete, and I'll be good as new," Patrick finished determinedly.

"I still think you should take some time to analyze what Pete means to you," Mikey tried.

"But I don't like men!" Patrick threw his hands in the air.

"Patrick, I think you need to put aside Pete's gender for a bit and just think about your feelings towards him. If you do that I really think everything will make a lot more sense," Mikey sighed, "I gotta go Patrick. See you on Monday."

"See you on Monday," Patrick replied before Mikey hung up.

"I know exactly what will help me," Patrick walked over to his bookcase and pulled out his 'March of the Penguins' DVD.

Patrick then opened the case to reveal a DVD that was definitely not March of the Penguins.

 

PXP

 

"Ahh, ahnn, mmm," The girl on Patrick's computer moaned.

"You're so gentle today," The girl stated through a moan, "Usually you're so aggressive with me, but- ahhh -today you're so kind."

"I'm straight," Patrick whispered to himself while his hand quickly stroked his dick, "You don't like men. Especially not ones the rape you in bathrooms."

"Hnnn, if you're this kind to me I might f-faaall in," The girl moaned, "love."

Patrick moaned quietly while slowly trailing his left hand behind his balls.

"Mhm," Patrick pushed his middle finger up to the first knuckle inside himself.

"Well, it seems you're feeling better," Came a familiar voice from behind Patrick.

"P-Pete," Patrick quickly tried to cover himself, but he knew it was in vain.

"Hey don't stop on my accord. I was only holding myself back to be respectful since I thought you were sick. But here you are getting yourself off," Pete moved to stand in front of Patrick.

"What? Did you forget how to masturbate? Here, let me help then," Pete pulled Patrick's hand away from his dick and replaced it with his own.

"N-No Pete stop," Patrick attempted to pull away, but Pete was holding on to an important area.

"Mhm," Patrick moaned when he eventually gave up on getting away.

"Ahh, Pete," Patrick cried out before coming.

"Get on your hands and knees on the bed," Pete whispered into Patrick's ear, and Patrick complied, resigning himself to being fucked.

Pete climbed onto the bed and kneeled behind Patrick.

"Here," Pete said rubbing his dick against the underside of Patrick's from behind, "Close your legs and keep your knees together."

After Patrick closed his legs Pete began quickly thrusting against Patrick.

Patrick huffed out a breath quickly becoming exhausted.

"Geez, you're already tired?" Pete chuckled, "I must be really good."

Patrick scoffed, "I'm an asthmatic, and I was sick. My exhaustion has nothing to do with your . . . capabilities."

"Are you saying I'm not capable?" Pete pulled away from Patrick, turning him over, and pinning him to the bed.

"Maybe, maybe not," Patrick stated with a challenge in his eyes.

"Well then, I guess I'll just have to prove myself," Pete pulled Patrick's legs over his shoulders and positioned his dick to rub against Patrick's.

Patrick's moans decreased in volume while his mind fell into turmoil.

'Why does this feel so good? Why does Pete arouse me? Am I not really straight?' Patrick's mind was a flurry of emotions, thoughts, and rationalizations.

Pete on the other hand took Patrick's lack of noise as a sign he was tiring again and needed to be less strained, so Pete stopped his ministrations.

When Patrick didn't speak up Pete took it as another sign of exhaustion and set a much slower pace, one that was almost sensual.

'Is he not going to put it in?' Patrick had thought Pete had stopped to begin actually fucking him, but instead Pete just continued his earlier activities at a slower pace.

Slowly Pete trailed kisses along the side of Patrick's thighs and stomach, and Patrick realized the reason for Pete's pause and pace change.

'He's worried about my body?' Patrick's eyes widened and his fever blush darkened.

Pete immediately took notice and felt Patrick's forehead.

After ensuring Patrick wasn't becoming worse Pete simply bent down and kissed Patrick's forehead.

'If Pete keeps acting like this I might get the wrong idea,' Patrick's blush remained in place long after Pete pulled away.

 

PXP

 

"How do you _still_ have a fever?! It's been three days!" Pete yelled at Patrick's thermometer as if it could magically make Patrick well again.

"I have a tendency to have unnaturally long sick periods," Patrick shrugged.

"You're going to be a handful; aren't you?" Pete sighed while Patrick just laughed.

"You think it's funny now, but since you're still sick guess what medicine you have to take," Pete smirked.

Patrick visibly paled.

"That's right-" "Don't even say it's name!" Patrick interrupted. "Quibozal!" Pete yelled cheerfully in the way one would yell if they had gotten a promotion and decided to irritably rub it in other people's faces.

"Ughhhh," Patrick groaned loudly.


	4. For Better or For Worse

"Ugh, 'Thank me for the other day' Who says that?! 'Come over to my house and cook something for me' Although he helped me out a lot you're not supposed to just demand someone do something for you!" Patrick grumbled.

"If he hadn't been so nice a few days ago I'd never be doing this, but I do owe him," Patrick walked angrily to the bus stop, groceries in hand, and waited for the 2:00 pm bus to Asten Street where Pete's home resided.

 

 

PXP

 

 

"I didn't get the address wrong did I?" Patrick asked himself as he stared at the mansion in front of him.

"Hey, looks like you got here alright," Pete opened up the gate to join Patrick outside his house.

"You live here?" Patrick asked, slightly (very) astonished.

"Yep," Pete grabbed the sacks of food from Patrick.

"Oh, by the way are you allergic to dogs?" Pete asked as an adorable bulldog ran up to him.

"No, I'm not," Patrick laughed as the dog tried to jump onto him.

"Hey, Hemmy no!" Pete reprimanded.

"Hemmy?" Patrick asked.

"Short for Hemmingway," Pete answered walking through the house to presumably the kitchen.

"I like that name," Patrick smiled.

"Soooooo," Pete drawled sitting at his kitchen counter staring at Patrick.

"Cooking. Right," Patrick said as he pulled out an apron from the sack of stuff he brought.

"You brought your own apron," Pete raised an eyebrow, smirking.

Patrick shrugged, "I don't want to get my clothes dirty."

"I can understand that, but . . . " Pete began to laugh, "Did you buy that one on purpose?"

Pete pointed to the pink, ruffle filled, 'kiss the cook' apron Patrick currently had on attempting (but ultimately failing) to control his laughter.

"Shut up! My Parents left this at my house, and it's the only apron I have," Patrick muttered, "Never mind, I don't care if I get my clothes dirty."

Patrick began to take off the apron, but Pete quickly stopped him, "No, no, it suits you."

"Shut up," Patrick scowled trying to once again take off the offending garment but, once again, being stopped by Pete.

"Just let me take this stupid thing off," Patrick pulled away from Pete.

"No, I like it," Pete moved to loom over Patrick.

Patrick glared up at Pete, "No, you like that you can make fun of me."

"No, I like that it gives me an excuse," Pete smirked.

"An excuse to do what, if not make fun of me?" Patrick challenged still glaring up at Pete.

"An excuse to do this," Pete leaned down and quickly took Patrick's mouth.

After a moment Patrick gathered his wits and pulled away from Pete, "Just because the apron says to 'kiss the cook' doesn't mean you can just come up and kiss me."

"Actually I think it does," Pete said in mock-realization, "I think that's the whole purpose of the apron."

“What’re you making?” Pete smiled, leaning against the counter while watching Patrick cook.

“Food.”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny,” Pete said unamused, “But seriously what are you making?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Pete gave him an unimpressed look.

“Stop looking at me like that. I’m not gonna tell you,” Patrick gave Pete his own unimpressed look.

“Really?” Pete smirked.

“Really.” Patrick challenged.

“Even if I were to say . . . persuade you to tell me,” Pete raised his left eyebrow.

Patrick scoffed, “You wouldn’t be able to.”

Pete surged forward and kissed Patrick fervently.

Pete had already placed Patrick on the counter and was in between his legs by the time a loud knocking came from the door.

Knock, knock, knock, "Daddy?!"

Pete's eyes widened, "Bronx?!"

Pete immediately pulled Patrick off of the counter and quickly walked with him to the door.

Pete opened the door to a little boy with blond hair and blue eyes running inside.

"Bronx, what are you doing here? Mommy didn't tell me you were coming over today," Pete smiled as the little boy hugged him tightly.

Bronx sniffled before telling Pete the story of why he was there.

 

 

PXP

 

 

"So you ran away."

Pete is currently standing next to Patrick, who is sitting in a chair, and staring at his son, Bronx, who is sitting on his couch.

"I hate the person mommy is dating right now!" Bronx yelled, tears forming in his eyes.

"But you can't just run away Bronx. Mommy must be worried sick," Pete sighed looking apologetic yet chastising.

Bronx stared at the ground looking sullen.

Pete sighed again, "Didn't you like that present Richard got you from England?"

Bronx scowled, "It's Graham now. Richard 'didn't work out'."

Pete ran his hand through his hair, "Okay, Bronx, I'm going to call mommy and tell her you're with me."

"No! She'll try to come pick me up, and I don't want to go home! I want to stay with you daddy!" Bronx's eyes began to water.

"Hey, it's okay," Pete hugged Bronx, "I'll ask mommy if you can stay with me. Okay?"

"Okay," Bronx nodded into Pete's chest.

Pete looked up at Patrick, "Hey Bronx," Pete turned Bronx around so that he was facing Patrick, "This is Patrick."

"Hi Patrick," Bronx smiled, waving.

Patrick huffed out a tiny laugh and smiled back, "Hello Bronx."

Bronx cocked his head a little before asking, "Are you daddy's boyfriend?"

Before Patrick could stutter out an answer that even he wasn't sure he had Pete turned to Bronx.

"Bronx, Patrick is someone that daddy really, really likes. Okay?" Pete smiled looking at Patrick fondly, "So I'm going to go call mommy. Play nice with Patrick."

"Okay," Bronx smiled.

Patrick was also smiling because, even though he didn't really understand his feelings for Pete yet, he felt that what Pete said was the perfect answer to that question.

Patrick felt warm in a way he had really only felt around Pete, and he was starting to understand the importance that.

"Patrick," While Patrick had been musing over his feelings he hadn't noticed Bronx walk up to stand directly in front of him.

Looking up at Patrick with an intense stare Bronx asked, "Daddy said that he really, really likes you. Do you really, really like daddy?"

Patrick looked at Bronx, and, even though he didn't know the answer to his question yet, he knew "You're daddy is very special to me. I'm not sure if I really, really like him yet, but I know he means more to me than I thought he did not long ago."

Bronx stared at Patrick for a moment then seemed to accept his answer and asked, quite seriously, "Have you taken a bath with daddy yet?"

Patrick's eyes widened, "Huh?"

"Has he washed your hair or have you been to the zoo?" Bronx put his hands on Patrick's shoulders and shook him lightly.

"N-No, that hasn't happened," Patrick stuttered.

Bronx smiled triumphantly, "I've done that."

"Look!" Bronx held up a backpack that was shaped like an adorable lion, "Daddy got this for me when he took me to the zoo!"

Patrick smiled at the adorable child, "You really love your daddy, don't you."

Bronx nodded, his smile growing even wider, "Uh-huh!"

Before Patrick could say anything else Bronx's eyes widened and he gasped, "Pancakes!"

Patrick watched as the adorable little boy ran into the kitchen sliding with his socks every once in a while on the wood floor before disappearing around the corner.

 

 

PXP

 

 

"Mommy says you have a dentist appointment, so you can't stay with me and Patrick. But you are going to spend this next entire weekend with me. That sound good?" Pete asked, setting the syrup on the counter next to Bronx's pancakes.

"Mmm hmm," Came Bronx muffled reply.

"What kind of pancakes do you like Patrick?" Pete turned to Patrick who was staring at the pancakes as if looking at the face of god.

The pancakes Bronx was currently engorging were what Patrick assumed food-god looked like, so in a way he kind of was staring at the face of god.

There were three pancakes total, stacked on top of each other with different berries cooked into them, whipped cream, vanilla frosting, and blueberry syrup.

"Patrick?" Pete looked slightly concerned.

Patrick was abruptly pulled out of his food induced trance, "Huh? What?"

"Pancakes. What kind?" Pete asked holding up his spatula.

Patrick stared at Bronx's pancakes longingly.

Once upon a time Patrick was an overweight kid with an affinity for singing.

Now he still loves to sing, but he worked really hard to loose all of the excess weight he had as a kid.

"I'm fine thank you," Patrick politely declined.

Pete simply nodded and turned back to the stove.

"Patwick do oou not wike pancwakes?" Bronx asked while pushing more pancake into his mouth.

One would think it would look disgusting, but really Patrick just found it adorable.

"Bronx, don't talk with your mouth full," Pete commented, flipping a pancake.

"But, I see you do it all the time," Bronx whined.

"That's because daddy doesn't have a wife to tell him not to," Pete smirked.

Bronx pouted, "But I don't have a wife either."

"You have a mommy though. And she tells you not to eat with your mouth open, doesn't she."

Bronx looked contemplative for a moment before turning and pointing at Patrick, "But you have Patrick! If my mommy counts then so does Patrick!"

"Here," Pete put a plate of delicious pancakes in front of Patrick, "I know you said you didn't want any, but you're beautiful. You have absolutely no reason to watch your figure and most of it's berries anyway."

Patrick's cheeks heated almost imperceptibly (almost being the key word), "Thank you."

"Patrick doesn't care if I eat with my mouth open," Pete stole a piece of Bronx's pancake and promptly ate it with his mouth open.

Patrick looked at Bronx and decided he could have a little fun, "Pete don't eat with your mouth open. It's not very lady like."

Bronx burst out laughing.

"Patrick how dare you turn on me!" Pete stared at him with a fake shocked expression.

"I'm just trying to help. Really Pete, you'll never get a girlfriend if you do gross stuff like that," Patrick laughed.

Pete smirked, "See Bronx that's why I always eat with my mouth open."

Bronx looked perplexed, "Because you don't want a girlfriend?"

"Yep, I only want Patrick," Pete smiled, "As long as I eat with my mouth open, Patrick finds me irresistible."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night Pete," Patrick quipped, but he had that warm feel crawling up his spine.

Patrick was happy.

 

 

PXP

 

 

"Hey Bronx, you gotta start putting up your Legos; mommy will be here any minute now," Pete sat down across from his son and Patrick who were on the couch.

"But I haven't showed Patrick my dolphin one yet," Bronx pouted.

Pete looked to Patrick and smiled, "Maybe Patrick can come over for a little bit this weekend. Okay? You can show him the rest of your Legos then, but right now you have to put them up."

"Okay," Bronx acquiesced.

Patrick had just handed Bronx the last Lego piece when the door bell rang.

"You got all of them?" Pete asked.

"Yep," Bronx got off the couch and pulled his backpack on.

"You ready?" Pete asked even though he knew Bronx didn't really want to go.

"Uh-huh," Bronx nodded.

Pete opened the front door, "Hello Ashlee."

"Hi Pete," She smiled politely then turned to Bronx, "Bronx do you know how scared I was?"

"I'm sorry," Bronx looked down at the ground sadly.

Ashlee sighed, "I know you are. I love you, you know."

Bronx smiled, "I know mommy. I love you too."

"Okay, you got everything?" Ashlee looked down at Bronx's bag.

"Yes," Bronx nodded.

"Okay, say goodbye to daddy then please get in the car. Your daddy and I need to talk for a bit."

Bronx looked up at his father then pulled him into a fierce hug, Pete returning it full fold.

Bronx wiped a tear from his eye, "I love you, daddy."

"I love you too Bronx," Pete hugged Bronx just a little bit tighter, "I'll see you next weekend kiddo."

"Bye daddy!" Bronx waved as he walked to his mom's car.

"Bye," Pete waved back.

"Bye Patrick!" Bronx smiled at Patrick who had been trying to give the family their space by staying a little bit behind.

Patrick smiled back coming into the light of day a little more, "Bye Bronx."

"Oh, hello. Sorry, I don't believe we've met yet; I'm Ashlee," Ashlee smiled and held out her hand.

"Hello Ashlee; I'm Patrick," Patrick smiled returning the handshake.

"Look Pete," Ashlee turned to Pete, "Bronx hasn't been liking any of the people I've dated. I didn't expect him to love them, but I was hoping he wouldn't hate them. I think he dislikes them all because he hasn't been spending enough time with his dad."

"I know our split wasn't the cleanest or the nicest, and I know it's my fault because I was hurt and angry and foolish and I took it all out on you and," Ashlee took a deep breath, "What I'm trying to say is I'm sorry. I'm sorry I fought so hard to get full custody of Bronx because really I was the one who was wrong. I was the one who cheated on you-"

"Ashlee-" Pete tried to tell her it was fine, but Ashlee silenced him.

"Just let me finish please," Ashlee smiled sadly, "Your host bar isn't a bad thing. It's not influencing Bronx in the least, and you're a great father. And I really am sorry. I want to give you joint custody of Bronx because you deserve that much, and Bronx deserves to be with his father."

"Ashlee- I- Thank you," Pete smiled, "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

"Don't mention it," Ashlee smiled, "So, tell me about yourself Patrick."

"Oh, um, there's not much to tell. I'm a music producer for MCR Records, and I'm twenty-six?" Patrick laughed awkwardly, "I'm sorry I don't really know what to say."

Ashlee laughed, "It's okay, what about you and Pete? Are you dating? Engaged? If I may ask of course. Sorry that might be private; you don't have to tell me if you don't want."

"No, no, it's fine Pete and I are . . ." Patrick trailed off looking at Pete.

"Undiscussed," Pete smiled.

"Oh, well, if I may, you two would make an adorable couple," Ashlee smiled then looked at her watch.

"Oh, I have to go; Bronx's dentist appointment is in thirty minutes. Bye Pete," She kissed Pete on the cheek, "And it was nice to meet you Patrick."

As Ashlee and Bronx drove away they both waved to Pete and Patrick.

When Pete bumped his hand into Patrick's and tangled there fingers Patrick didn't protest.

And Pete was happy.


	5. To Love and To Cherish

Pete had everything planned.

Pete was going to use Patrick cooking for him as an excuse to be with Patrick then he was going to completely defile him.

Everything was going according to plan until Bronx showed up.

Then everything started going better than planned.

No, Pete didn’t get to defile Patrick, but Patrick got to meet his son- his pride and joy.

And Bronx loved Patrick.

When Bronx (and Pete) found out how amazing Patrick was at singing they immediately made him sing eight of his- read: their -favorite songs, and Patrick didn’t mind one bit.

Then he and Bronx played Legos until Ashlee came.

Now usually Pete and Ashlee’s meetings weren’t a nice experience, but Ashlee told Pete he could have joint custody of Bronx finally.

There was only one way today could have gotten better for Pete, and he was about to make that happen.

Pete was currently once again in between Patrick's legs furiously defiling his mouth, gathering up the nerve to tell Patrick what he was thinking when his phone started ringing.

Pete was going to ignore it, but Patrick insistently pushed on his shoulders, “It might be someone important.”

“No one’s that important,” Pete grumbled.

“Bronx?” Patrick deadpanned.

Pete grumbled but pulled out his phone, “Hello?”

“Pete, we have a problem,” Came a familiar voice from Pete’s phone.

“Spencer this better be important,” Pete growled.

“It’s extremely important! We have-,” Spencer began to explain what was going on, but Patrick’s phone began to ring.

“Hey Brendon, what’s up?” Patrick answered.

“Well, um, Patrick promise not to be mad, okay?” Brendon began.

“Why would I be mad?” Patrick asked cautiously.

“Because I didn’t tell you?” Brendon stated, but it was more of a question.

“What did you not tell me?” Patrick was growing more concerned by the second.

“Promise not to be mad first!”

“Okay Brendon I promise. What happened?”

“I broke my arm,” Brendon said in a timid voice.

“You what?! Are you okay?” Patrick and Brendon have an odd friendship.

When Brendon first moved to LA all he wanted to do was live.

He had run away from his home at the age of eighteen because his Mormon family wasn’t accepting of his homosexuality.

He really didn’t have a plan.

The only thing he had was the money he had saved up over the years and a duffle bag of clothes.

The day he arrived at the airport he realized he probably should have made a plan.

But that day was his lucky day because he ran into Patrick at the airport.

Quite literally ran into Patrick.

He had seen a puppy and subsequently wasn’t looking where he was going, and boom Patrick Stump came falling into his life.

Or well maybe Brendon, technically, fell into Patrick’s.

After Brendon apologized and told Patrick his, almost entire, life story Patrick became Brendon’s honorary big brother.

Brendon stayed with Patrick until he had enough money saved up from the job Patrick got him that he could move into his own apartment.

Ever since that day at the airport Patrick has made sure to be the amazing family Brendon never got.

So when Brendon gets hurt Patrick better be the first person to know.

“I’m fine. I just have a broken arm and kinda need a ride . . .” Brendon trailed off waiting for Patrick’s answer to his unasked question.

“Yeah, of course I’ll give you a ride. Um, okay, give me twenty minutes? Can you wait twenty minutes, or do you need to leave now?” Patrick looked up at Pete who had just gotten off his own phone.

Pete mouthed that he could take Patrick, and Patrick smiled, “Never mind I’ll be there in ten minutes, Brendon.”

“Oookaaay,” Brendon said cheerfully, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Don’t mention it,” Patrick replied already running with Pete to the car.

 

 

PXP

 

 

“Patrick!” Brendon smiled running up to Patrick.

“Brendon, don’t run with a broken arm!” Patrick chastised.

Brendon smiled sheepishly, “Sorry.”

“Oh, so this is why you were here so quickly,” Brendon gasped, “You were Patrick’s visitor from a few weeks ago!”

“Oh, I should introduce myself; hello, I’m Brendon,” Brendon smiled.

“Hi, I’m Pete,” Pete held out his hand to shake Brendon’s which Brendon returned.

Pete was going to say more, but his phone began to ring.

“I’m sorry, give me a sec,” Pete walked away from Patrick and Brendon, answering the phone as he did so.

“Pete I need you here now!” Came Spencer’s frantic voice.

“What’s going on?” Pete asked in an urgent voice.

“The girl is yelling at Josh about her being pregnant with his child and some other crazy shit. Her friends showed up, and they’ve been taking swings at us. One of them has a baseball bat! Joe has a black eye!” Spencer whisper yelled.

“Fuck,” Pete cursed, “Where the fuck are the police?!”

“There’s a bank robbery in progress downtown. They can’t have people out here until that shit’s dealt with,” Spencer groaned.

“Okay, okay, I’ll be right there,” Pete didn’t wait for Spencer’s reply before hanging up.

Before Pete could even tell Patrick and Brendon they had to take a detour Patrick was already asking about the police, “Did you say something about the police? Pete what’s going on?”

“My shop’s been taking hostage by a pregnant woman with a baseball bat and her cronies. I have to go to my shop,” Pete explained already jogging to the car.

“Got it,” Patrick nodded opening the backseat door for Brendon and jumping into the front.

“This is going to be interesting,” Brendon commented idly, looking out the window.

 

 

PXP

 

 

“That might be the understatement of the century,” Pete yelled into his phone, “I’m coming down the street. How should I go inside?”

“I don’t know, but whatever you do, do it quickly,” Andy whispered hanging up.

“Okay, you two stay in the car,” Pete turned toward Patrick and Brendon, “Do. Not. Leave. The. Car.”

“In fact I don’t want you anywhere near this,” Pete looked up at his shop, “Patrick can you drive? Just drive yourself to Brendon’s and stay there or go home. You can return the car tomorrow or something.”

“We’re not going to just leave you!” Patrick threw his arm towards the building in an exaggerated manor.

“Yes you are. It’s not safe here!” Pete whisper yelled, not wanting to draw attention to the back entrance he was currently standing at.

“Fine, call me when you’re safe,” Patrick grumbled.

“I will,” Pete started to move away but decided he might as well take a chance.

Pete swiftly dove down and kissed Patrick.

It was chaste, but it got his point across.

“I’ll see you later,” Pete called over his shoulder as he walked to the back door.

“You better,” Patrick called back beginning to drive away.

After Pete had disappeared into the shop Brendon turned towards Patrick, “We’re not leaving are we?”

“We are, but only to get reinforcements,” Patrick nodded to his phone that was on the consul already dialing the first ‘reinforcement’s’ number.

“Hiya, what’s up Patrick?” The phone greeted.

“Hey Gerard is Frank with you?” Patrick asked as he turned the corner.

“When am I ever not with Gee?” Frank answered.

“Awesome, are you guys home?” Patrick turned another corner.

“Yes, why?” Gerard responded this time.

Patrick parked his car in front of Gerard and Frank’s house, “Because I’m at your house, and I need help.”

“We’ll be right out,” Came Gerard’s immediate reply.

 

 

PXP

 

 

“So you’re asking us to go on a dangerous rescue mission with you and Brendon that is sure to be filled with drama, intrigue, and action?” Frank summarized.

“Yep,” Patrick replied curtly.

“Oh fuck yes!” Frank smiled, but his smile quickly turned into a smirk, “Ooh, I gotta get something. Be right back.”

“So we’re in,” Gerard responded.

“Awesome get in the back,” Patrick cocked his head towards the back of the car.

About a minute later Frank came running out of the house and jumped into the back of the car, “Okay I got this,” Frank held up a gun.

“Frank why do you have a gun?!” Patrick gaped.

“Don’t worry it’s fake, but they won’t know that,” Frank smirked in the way a mental asylum patient might smirk after having escaped prison.

“How did you even get a gun like that? All fake guns have to have colored tips. You can’t just buy one without it so how . . .” Patrick trailed off already driving to Pete’s shop.

“Magic,” Frank responded whilst cleaning the fake gun.

“We’re not going to get a real answer out of you are we,” Brendon sighed.

“I gave you a real answer. I got it from a guy named Magic on the black market,” Frank smiled.

“How long have you been waiting to tell that joke?” Gerard turned to Frank.

Frank shook his head, “Too long baby, too long.”

 

 

PXP

 

 

“Okay, so what’s the plan,” Brendon asked as soon as Patrick parked the car.

“I say we go in guns a-blazing!” Frank offered.

Gerard looked a little less adamant about that plan, “I think we should have an actual plan.”

“What if we go in through the back and sneak into the room. Then we save the day,” Frank compromised.

“Sounds good,” Patrick got out of the car and Brendon began to follow, but Patrick stopped him, “Brendon you’re staying here.”

Brendon pouted, “Why do you guys get to have all of the fun?”

“Because we didn’t brake our arms after tripping because we saw a puppy,” Gerard replied getting out of the car after Frank.

“How did you know about that?!”

“Mikey told us,” Frank shrugged.

Brendon pouted more, “Snitch.”

“Stay in the car, and don’t hurt yourself,” Patrick called opening the back door.

“Yeah, yeah,” Brendon muttered to himself.

 

 

PXP

 

 

As soon as Patrick got through the door he realized it was a bad idea.

Mostly because there was a girl there waiting for them.

With a bat.

“Fuck,” Patrick cursed.

“Okay, so doing this a little earlier than expected,” Frank said as he pulled out the gun.

“Put the bat on the ground and kick it over to us,” Frank pointed the gun at the woman.

She was smart and immediately put the bat down, kicking it towards Patrick.

Patrick picked up the bat, “Lead us to where the rest of you guys are.”

The woman simply nodded and started to walk.

 

 

PXP

 

 

It was a trap.

As soon as they got into the room another girl came out of nowhere and hit Frank over the back of his head with a frying pan.

“Shit, Frank,” Gerard immediately dropped down to tend to Frank who was surprisingly still conscious.

“Bitch,” Frank pointed the gun at her, and she dropped the frying pan.

“Put the gun down,” A blond woman with a small hump on her belly and a gun demanded.

“Or else I shoot him,” She pointed the gun at Pete whose nose was bleeding.

“Look lady I can do this all day. But you’re pregnant and can’t stay standing like that forever, so I suggest you put down your gun,” Frank reasoned.

She lifted an eyebrow and smacked Pete with the gun.

“Lady what the fuck. I have a gun to your friends head!”

“You won’t shoot,” She stated, eyes wild.

“Do you really want to take that chance? Because I promise it won’t turn out the way you think it will,” Frank warned.

“Hello? Is your shop open,” An old woman stepped into the store.

“My car broke down, and I was wondering if I could use your tella-ma-phone?”

“Stores closed,” The blond haired woman stated bluntly.

“Oh, well can I at least use your phone?” The woman walked right up to the girl.

“Can’t you see I have a gun?!” The blond woman yelled taking the gun and showing it plainly to the old woman.

Which was exactly what the old woman was hoping would happen.

She pulled up her cane and smacked the gun out of the girl’s hand.

Patrick dove for it and pointed it at the blond girl once he got it. “Fuck,” The blond woman sighed.

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth,” The old lady chastised.

“What kind of old woman are you?!” The girl yelled.

“Oh I’m not any kind,” The woman pulled off his wig and large spectacles.

“Brendon! I told you to stay in the car!” Patrick reprimanded.

“Pete told you to stay in the car, and you didn’t listen!” Brendon whined petulantly.

“I don’t have a broken arm!”

“Watch out!” Spencer yelled jumping up and taking a hit to the side with a baseball bat from a girl that had come out of the shadows.

Patrick quickly repositioned the gun, and the girl dropped her baseball bat.

“Spencer Smith! Why did you do that?!” Brendon bent down to help Spencer.

“I didn’t want you to get hit,” Spencer shrugged sheepishly.

“You didn’t have to get hit in my stead!”

“Police, everybody drop your weapons!” eight men ran into the room.

Patrick, who had migrated over to sit with Pete, sat down the gun calmly along with everyone else who had a weapon.

 

 

PXP

 

 

“That was the most fun I’ve had in a long time!” Frank walked into the hospital room everyone else was standing in awaiting Spencer’s x-ray results.

“You got hit in the back of the head with a frying pan,” Patrick laughed.

“Yeah and I totally got a concussion too,” Frank smiled taking a seat next to Gerard.

“Aren’t you supposed to stay in your room for constant observation?” Spencer asked from his place on the hospital bed in the middle of the room.

Frank smiled proudly, “Yep, I escaped when the nurse went to the bathroom.”

That got a barked out laugh from Joe and a chuckle from everyone else (excluding Spencer whose ribs hurt too much).

The door to Spencer’s room opened, and everyone turned to hear the news from the doctor.

“Well,” The doctor sighed, “they’re definitely broken.”

“All of them,” Brendon asked, wide-eyed.

“No,” The doctor smiled, “That’s the good news. Only three of them suffered major damage, but they are definitely broken. You’re quite lucky none of the bone shrapnel went into any major arteries or important stuff. Sadly it will feel like all of the ribs on your right side are broken because the rest of them are bruised.”

“Great,” Spencer groaned.

“There is a silver lining to this though,” The doctor raised her clipboard, “Your insurance will cover all of the expenses.”

“Thank god,” Spencer breathed out.

“Well, I am going to proscribe you some pain medication, and you’ll be on your way,” The doctor turned away from the door for a moment, “Oh, and if you don’t have a wheelchair at home I seriously recommend renting one from the hospital; especially because with your insurance it’ll be free.”

“I do not have a wheelchair at home,” Spencer admitted.

“Then I’ll get you medication and a wheelchair; I’ll be right back,” The doctor smiled and left the room.

“Hey Spencer you wanna drink the pain away?” Joe smirked.

“Fuck yes,” Spencer exhaled.

“Okay, so I’m a kick ass bartender, and we have a fuck ton of alcohol at the shop. So who says we skip the crowds and noise, go to the shop, and get to know each other? Because I still haven’t met half of you guys,” Joe suggested leaning against the wall.

“Sounds like an amazing plan to me!” Pete smiled leaning into Patrick.

"Okay, I'm not waiting until we get to the shop to find out who you guys are," A skinny man Patrick hadn't met yet spoke up, "I'm Ryan. Spencer's assistant."

"Hi Ryan I'm Frank! This is Gerard," Frank pointed to the man he was currently draped over, "He's my work partner and my real partner. The guy hovering next to 'Spencer' right? He's Brendon: everyone's honorary little brother, and the person next to Pete? Is Patrick."

"Hello!" Brendon smiled widely.

"Hi," Spencer smiled back.

"Not you Spencer Smith. I know you," Brendon swatted Spencer's hand, "I was talking to the two people I haven't met."

"Wait you know everyone but two people in this room?" Pete asked looking at Andy and Joe.

"Yep, Patrick, Frank, and Gerard I've know for years, and Spencer and Ryan I met at Starbucks a few weeks ago. And I met you today! So everybody but two people," Brendon shrugged looking at the two people he hadn't yet met.

"Well, then hi I'm Joe and this is Andy," Joe pointed to the man next to him.

"Hello," Andy waved.

"Great we're all acquainted lets go drinking!" Pete smiled.

"I need to wait for pills and a wheelchair dude," Spencer commented while playing thumb wars with Brendon.

Brendon pouted, "No fair, you cheated Spencer Smith."

"I'm crippled."

"That's not an excuse for cheating!"

"It totally is."

Spencer was too engrossed in his musing over how cute Brendon was when he was angry that he didn't notice the doctor walk into the room, hand him his pain medication, and leave the wheelchair for him to get into.

"Guys stop flirting long enough for Spencer to at least get into the wheelchair," Pete pushed the wheelchair up to the side of the bed.

"We weren't flirting," Brendon blushed.

"You so were! Don't even," Frank laughed.

Spencer just quietly got into the wheelchair.

Because he totally was flirting.

 

 

PXP

 

 

Okay so maybe Pete is just the tiniest bit jealous.

And maybe it's kind of (really very) noticeable.

See the thing is Joe and Patrick have a lot in common.

They have similar music taste, similar food taste, and all that, and Pete's not going to lie.

He doesn't like it.

He doesn't like it one bit.

Because he and Patrick are supposed to be connected at the hip.

That's just how it's supposed to be.

So maybe Pete hangs on Patrick a little too much, and maybe it's a bit possessive.

But really who can blame him?

Because Patrick is _Patrick_.

Who _wouldn't_ be a bit possessive?!

"Hey," Patrick greeted as Pete came up behind him, wrapping his arms around Patrick's waist.

"Hey," Pete sat his chin on Patrick's shoulder.

"Pete, I was just telling Patrick about your music choices for the shop," Joe smiled.

Oh, Joe and Patrick didn't have the exact same preferences.

He and Patrick had the exact same preferences.

He feels kinda bad that he forgot how awesome of a friend and wingman Joe's always been.

"Oh yeah? What kind of music do you like Patrick?" Pete smiled.

"Well it seems I kind of like the same music as you," Patrick giggled.

Patrick giggled.

Pete looked to Joe with an unasked question.

To which Joe replied with a nod.

Well that confirms it.

Patrick is drunk.

This is Pete's chance, "Really that's awesome," Pete smiled, "Well, I'm definitely going to have to have you sing some songs for us at the shop sometime."

"I can't sing," Patrick ducked his head shyly.

Pete rolled his eyes, "Did you forget that you sang for me earlier today? Because you can't tell me that you don't have a voice like an angel when I've heard it myself."

Patrick blushed, "You're exaggerating Pete."

"I'm really not," Pete looked to Joe, "So Trohman, you hear Saporta's on his way to liven up this party?"

"Yeah, did you hear he settled down?" Joe began making Pete a drink.

Pete laughed, "Can you imagine Gabe actually settling down?"

"He did, Pete. I wasn't kidding. I know it sounds crazy, but it's true; I met the guy," Joe slid Pete his drink.

"You're serious?" At Joes nod Pete continued, "Jesus, never thought I'd see the day."

"I know; it's crazy," Joe laughed.

"Who's Gabe," Patrick asked leaning into Pete.

"Gabe Saporta's an old friend of mine. He's a total fuckboy though, or, well damn, I guess was. He's probably still a flirt, but really he's a great guy. And really great host," Pete wrapped his arm around Patrick's shoulders.

"Do you still do the host stuff Pete?" Patrick asked looking almost crestfallen at the realization that Pete might still be a host.

"Not anymore; now-a-days I just run the shop," Pete smiled at Patrick's relieved look.

"Speak of the devil," Joe called out to man that just entered the shop.

Gabe smirked, "Trohman, you're looking as terrible as ever."

"Why thank you Gabe," Joe smirked, "and you're looking like an imposter coming in here newly settled down."

"Speaking of settled down, this is William," Gabe smiled gesturing to the man holding onto his arm.

"Hello," William greeted.

"Gabe Saporta settling down?" Spencer called from the other side of the room, "Has hell frozen over?"

Gabe laughed, "I knew you guys would take it hard. I know the knowledge that I'm off the market must be devastating to you all."

William started laughing.

"Hey what're you laughing at? I have bestowed the honor of my love onto you!" Gabe squawked.

William just laughed harder, "Sorry, sorry, it's just that you're adorable."

Everyone who knew Gabe began to laugh.

Gabe just huffed and looked around, "There are a few new faces, so I'll introduce myself: I am Gabe Saporta. You may call me 'O Great One', 'Your Highness', and/or 'Your Majesty'."

"Or just Gabe. Or Asshole. That's what I call him," William laughed halfway through his delivery of the quip, obviously not used to making fun of people.

"Traitor," Gabe stuck his tongue out.

"So Pete, who's your friend?" Gabe smirked, "Because we're all talking about how surprising it is to see me settled down, but here you are with your arm around this fine man."

"This fine man is Patrick," Pete smiled.

"Hello Patrick," Gabe smiled.

"Hello Gabe and William," Patrick greeted inclining his head toward William in a nod.

"Hi, Patrick," William returned the nod.

Gabe surveyed the room once more, "Jesus Spencer, what happened man?"

"I got hit in the side with a baseball bat," Spencer grinned sheepishly, "And to answer your next question: this is Brendon."

Brendon grinned, "Hi!"

"Hello Brendon," William waved and Gabe greeted Brendon with a simple "Sup".

"So Spencer who hit you in the side with a baseball bat?"

"A crazy pregnant woman. In fact this is the 'Hey We're Not Dead' celebration party," Joe spoke up for Spencer.

"Damn, wish I was there," Gabe walked over to Joe to get a drink.

After getting himself and William beers he turned towards Ryan and the two people he hadn't yet met, "So Ross, introduce me to your two friends."

"Actually, I just met these guys today. It's a long story, but most of us just met each other," Ryan shrugged.

"So we'll introduce ourselves," Frank threw his hands to his sides in a grand gesture, "I am Frank Iero. Also known as 'Maniac', 'insane Asylum Patient', and 'Get The Hell Out Of Here'. You know what now that I think of it, that last one might not actually be a nickname; then again people do say it to me a lot so . . ." Frank trailed off, grinning with all of his teeth.

"I like your style little dude. I think we'll be good friends," Gabe laughed.

 

 

PXP

 

 

After Gabe's grand entrance everyone settled into comfortable conversation with each other.

They played a few drinking games and just fucked around for the most part.

Pete had a great time.

And he discovered a little fact about Patrick Stump that he treasured the entire night.

Patrick Stump is a cuddly drunk, and Pete found it adorable.

After leaving (and locking) the shop Pete took Patrick home intending to prove himself as a chivalrous gentleman.

This didn't go exactly as Pete planned because Patrick being a cuddly drunk was starting to become a problem.

"Why do you have to go?" Patrick asked holding onto Pete tightly.

Pete hadn't even made it Past Patrick's doorway before Patrick jumped into his arms.

Pete looked at Patrick longingly.

He really wanted nothing more than to thoroughly ravish Patrick, but Pete had already made up his mind and resigned himself to being a gentleman.

'Patrick is drunk. Patrick is drunk. If he were sober he would never ask you to stay over. When he wakes up and remembers how much of a gentleman you were it will all be worth it. The thank you sex will be amazing,' Pete sighed, "Patrick, you're drunk. And 'sober you' will appreciate me not taking advantage of that."

"I'm not drunk," Patrick pouted indignantly, "And I don't want you to leave. When I wake up tomorrow and see you're not there because you left me all alone the night before I'll never talk to you again!"

"Patrick, you don't mean that," Pete raised an eyebrow, "You'll be happy when you wake up tomorrow to see that I didn't take advantage of you."

"How is it taking advantage of me if I'm consenting?!"

"You're drunk Patrick. You don't actually want to have sex with me. Have you forgotten that every time we have sex you adamantly profess your disinterest in me?" Pete turned to walk away, but Patrick grabbed his arm.

"Just because I say something doesn't mean it's true," Patrick snorted.

Pete sighed, exasperated, "What do you mean, Patrick?"

"Pete, have you ever heard of the expression 'Sober thoughts are drunk actions'?"

"I have . . ." Pete trailed off as Patrick grabbed the lapels of his jacket.

"Well then," Patrick whispered in Pete's ear, pulling their bodies flush against each other, "You'll understand that I mean it when I say I lo-"

Pete's phone began to ring.

"Fuck," Pete cursed answering his phone, "Yes."

"Hello, would you like to take part in an experimental trial of-"

"No, please take my name off your list," Pete hung up.

"Patrick I-" Pete looked over to find Patrick passed out on his couch.

Pete smiled slightly mournfully, "It's probably for the best."

Pete walked over to Patrick, picking him up off his couch and depositing him in his bed.

Pete leaned over and kissed Patrick's forehead, "Goodnight Patrick."


	6. Till Death Do Us Part

"Patrick? Hey Earth to Patrick! Mission control needs those edited and commented recordings of yours!" Frank waved his hand in front of Patrick's face.

"Yeah boys, I'm afraid this is the beginning of the end; the low pay, high-taxed, nine to five grind has finally made him snap. Look's like we're gonna hafta dispose of his body before the vultures of cold-case detectives find him and sue us for 'humanely unsuitable working conditions'; it's for the better of the company!" Frank declared holding his fist up in the air, "Don't worry I know a good insane asylum Patty-Watty; we'll get you a good home," Frank assured.

"Frank what on Earth are you talking about?" Patrick stared at Frank with a slightly horrified look.

"Oh thank god you're okay! We were sure you had finally had an existential crisis that led you to realize your meek existence on this Earth and true worthlessness as compared to the liars, thieves, and douchebags who are the only ones that really get ahead in this game of monopoly we call 'life' only pushed on by our own greediness, lack-luster morals, and misguided judgments of right and wrong that we continuously attempt to change by donating money or volunteering knowing in the back of our minds that what we do will never really make a difference as every attempt at fixing the shittyness of humanity is easily squashed by next school shooter or corporate deity gone psycho, proving that all we really are is just checkers in Jesus and Satan's backgammon game," Frank looked off to a non-existent spot on the wall, eyes unfocused.

Patrick blinked, "Frank, you need . . . you need a hug buddy. Just, a lot more than that, like immense amounts of therapy, but really I don't think therapy can help you, so we'll just skip the trouble of years and years of unhelpful counseling and just give you hugs. Gerard hug Frank more. He needs it."

Gerard walked over to Frank, "Frank we've talked about this before; not everyone is ready for the truth. And that's okay," Gerard pecked Frank.

"Sorry, just got a little immersed there," Frank smiled in 'what're ya gonna do?' sort of way.

"Ooo-kaay then, what did you guys want?" Patrick scrubbed his hand over his face.

"We just needed your latest finished recording," Ray, who had been standing behind Frank and Gerard the entire time, shrugged.

"Oh, yeah sure, here," Patrick handed Ray the USB drive.

"Thanks man, you doing okay?" Ray asked looking slightly concerned.

"I'm fine; I was just thinking about something," Patrick's mind returned to his previous thoughts of the events that took place last night.

 

 

*"Why do you have to go?" Patrick asked holding onto Pete tightly.

Pete sighed, "Patrick, you're drunk. And 'sober you' will appreciate me not taking advantage of that."

"I'm not drunk," Patrick pouted indignantly, "And I don't want you to leave. When I wake up tomorrow and see you're not there because you left me all alone the night before I'll never talk to you again!"

"Patrick, you don't mean that," Pete raised an eyebrow, "You'll be happy when you wake up tomorrow to see that I didn't take advantage of you."

"How is it taking advantage of me if I'm consenting?!"

"You're drunk Patrick. You don't actually want to have sex with me. Have you forgotten that every time we have sex you adamantly profess your disinterest in me?" Pete turned to walk away, but Patrick grabbed his arm.

"Just because I say something doesn't mean it's true," Patrick snorted.

Pete sighed, exasperated, "What do you mean, Patrick?"

"Pete, have you ever heard of the expression 'Sober thoughts are drunk actions'?"

"I have . . ." Pete trailed off as Patrick grabbed the lapels of his jacket.

"Well then," Patrick whispered in Pete's ear, pulling their bodies flush against each other, "You'll understand that I mean it when I say I lo-"

Pete's phone began to ring.

Patrick walked over to his couch and sat down waiting for Pete to finish his phone call.

Patrick glanced over to Pete one last time before his eye-lids became too heavy, and he fell asleep.*

"Well if you're sure you're okay . . ." Ray trailed off.

"I'm fine, thank you Ray," Patrick gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile, but by the look Ray gave him he most likely failed.

"See ya Patrick," Ray waved over his shoulder as he walked off.

Patrick groaned letting his head drop to his desk.

"Why do I have to be such a terrible drunk?" Patrick sighed heavily, "Why can't I just act a little funny like everyone else? No, instead I'm fucking cuddly, and apparently I like to go around spewing lies to poor innocent Pete's!"

Patrick paused for a moment, "Well, on second thought Pete's neither poor nor innocent, so I shouldn't feel too bad."

"Hey, Patrick?" Gerard leaned over Patrick's desk to look at him with a concerned expression.

"Are you _sure_ he hasn't cracked yet Gee?" Frank gave Gerard an incredulous look.

Gerard's face twisted into an odd combination of a reassuring grin and a terrified cringe.

Frank found it hot.

He was just about to voice that when Patrick began talking.

"I'm leaving early today," Patrick stood from his desk holding a card of some sort.

"Okaaaay-" Gerard gave Patrick an apprehensive look.

While Frank on the other hand's eyes widened, "Wait, can we do that?!"

"Can you just walk out of hell?" Frank looked to Gerard.

"I suppose so," Gerard shrugged.

"Why have we not done that before?! We could be fucking right now!" Frank threw his hands into the air while Patrick left the building.

"Because we like this job. And office pranks man," Gerard said as if it was an all encompassing answer to Frank's question.

But then again to Frank and Gerard it probably was.

Frank clicked his tongue, "You're right."

"Hey, you know what we should do . . ."

 

 

PXP

 

 

"I have to apologize," Patrick stated with conviction hoping the words would solidify his resolve.

In front of his stood Pete's shop, Fall Out Boyz illuminated in red neon.

Patrick took in a deep breath, "Here goes nothing," and he opened the door.

"Hey Patrick, missed me too much?" Joe smiled from the bar.

Patrick laughed, nerves quickly calming, "How could anyone not miss you Joe?"

"Actually, I'm here to talk to Pete; is he here?" Patrick did a quick once over of the front area.

"I thought as much; well, no Pete's not here at the moment, buuut-" Joe looked at the clock on the wall, "He should be here any moment now."

"Great," Patrick smiled.

"Can I get you anything to drink?"

Patrick shook his head, "No I think I'm good, thanks."

Joe nodded and left for the backroom.

"Hey, Patrick!" Andy smiled walking over to Patrick.

"Hey Andy," Patrick waved.

"So what brings you here?" Andy gestured for Patrick to sit with him at one of the tables by the windows.

"I'm here to see Pete," Patrick glanced out the window.

"Oh, well I'm sure Joe told you he'd be back any minute," Andy smiled.

Patrick smiled in return, "He did."

After a moment of thought Patrick decided to ask Andy about some questions he had, "Andy could I ask you some questions about some things?"

"Sure," Andy shrugged smiling kindly.

Patrick thought it was really surprising how someone so intimidating in outward appearance can be so easily kind.

"Why did Pete start this business?"

"Well," Andy sighed, "I might as well tell you the whole story. So once upon a time there was a young man; his name is Pete. So this young man- Pete -didn't really know what to do with his life. He never really had any passions or anything that he could think of to do for work. So when times got tough he took the first job that was offered to him. That job happened to be a job as a male host. That's where he met me. I was the bouncer of the host club Pete was working at-"

"Wait you were the bouncer?" Patrick gave Andy an incredulous look.

Andy laughed, "I know. I wouldn't hurt a fly, but my looks are scary enough that I made a pretty good bouncer. In fact that's kinda my job here too. Okay back to the story- So Pete and I met, and about a year later Pete's grandfather died. Pete's grandfather happened to own a little plot of land with nothing on it in a prime real-estate spot. Instead of selling it like Pete's new wife had wanted Pete decided to make a go at the host business himself. Long story short Pete's divorce ended up somewhere in the middle of this story, but so did this really awesome shop. Pete was smart. He brought only close friends on as business partners and employees, that kind of thing. So Joe ended up as bartender, I became bouncer slash waiter slash errands guy, Gabe and a few other friends became hosts, Spencer became Pete's financial manager, and later Pete hired Ryan to be Spencer's kick-ass assistant. We're all one big, happy, family really."

"Wow, that's amazing," Patrick smiled in awe of their story.

"Yeah, it kind of is," Andy smirked, "Guess who just walked in."

Patrick turned to see Pete walk in with another man Patrick didn't know.

"Oh, is that a client or-" Patrick was about to further question the unknown man's identity when the man pulled himself and Pete against the wall and began to have what looked to be a very thorough make-out session.

Patrick's eyes widened, "I-I"

A blond woman walked by after muttering "Gross" at the site of the men kissing, and Patrick knew he had to get out of there.

"Patrick wait, I'm sure there's a-" Andy sighed as he watched Patrick run out the door, "Logical explanation for this," Andy finished quietly, walking over to Pete and Jon to ask what the fuck had just happened.

 

 

PXP

 

 

Patrick moved out of his cocoon of blankets and pillows to check his phone that had just dinged.

"'Can we meet tonight'?" Patrick laughed mirthlessly, "I'm sure there are plenty of other people you could meet with."

Patrick quickly scrubbed the tears that had fallen from his eyes away.

Patrick didn't respond to Pete's text instead he turned his phone off and threw it across the room.

"Fuck, why did I have to realize this shit now?" Patrick pulled the covers over him and began to silently cry again.

 

 

PXP

 

 

"Hey, Patrick are you okay?" Mikey's hand rubbed Patrick's back.

"Yeah I'm fine Mikey," Patrick shrugged off Mikey's hand, "What's up?"

Mikey looked at Patrick for a moment, "Patrick what happened?"

"Nothing happened. Why do you think something happened?" Patrick tried to smile, but even he knew it wouldn't fool anyone.

Mikey sighed, "Patrick you're obviously hurting. You don't have to tell me what happened, but if you need someone to talk to please just ask."

Patrick looked up at Mikey and nodded.

"I'm here for you okay," Mikey ducked down to look into Patrick's eyes.

Patrick stared at Mikey for a moment before dropping his head into his hands, "Dammit Mikey, I don't know what to do."

Mikey grabbed his chair and sat next to Patrick, "Would it help if you told me what happened."

"Patrick!" Brendon ran into Patrick's office looking distraught.

"Are you okay? What's wrong," Brendon's wide, worried eyes finally made Patrick crack.

"Pete-" Patrick's voice crack, and he began to cry, "I saw him make-out with another guy."

Brendon's eyes widened, "That's impossible. Patrick there's gotta be an explanation."

"For Making-out with someone!" Patrick ran a hand through his hair, not even bothering to wipe away the tears freely falling from his eyes, "There's no explanation for that Brendon!"

"But-but Pete-" Brendon started.

"Pete what?" Patrick laughed wetly, "I shouldn't have fallen for this shit! Pete's a fucking host! Why the fuck did I think he could actually have feelings for me?!"

"Patrick-" Mikey tried.

"You know what the worst part is?" Patrick looked at Mikey then Brendon, "The worst fucking part is that you were fucking _right_ Mikey! I _do_ like him! Fuck Mikey, I'm in goddamn _love_ with him!"

"Patrick, I'm so sorry," Mikey hugged Patrick.

"Patrick, did you talk to Pete?" Brendon asked quietly.

" _Why_ would I want to talk to him?" Patrick scoffed bitterly.

"Patrick, I might be naïve, but I'm good at finding out people's true feelings. My parent's never outwardly said they disliked homosexual's before I came out. But I knew they did. And I was scarily right. And I know that Pete saw you as a hell of a lot more than just some last Friday fuck! He _really_ cares for you Patrick! Pete looks at you like you're his _entire fucking world_!" Brendon threw his hands in the air.

"Brendon _never_ curses, Patrick. That's how serious he is about this. And I completely agree with him!" Gerard walked into Patrick's office with Frank.

"If he likes me so much why did he make-out with someone else?!" Patrick yelled, looking completely desolate.

"Maybe, it was just one big misunderstanding! You need to talk to Pete, Patrick," Frank said quietly.

"I don't _want_ to talk to Pete! I'm already hurting enough. I don't want to hear him tell me I never meant anything to him," Patrick hid his face in his arms.

"Okay, okay. We respect that," Mikey looked to everyone signaling for Gerard and Frank to leave.

Gerard and Frank both hugged Patrick.

"We'll be back with ice cream and movies," Frank nodded to Patrick.

"We're at work," Patrick tried feebly.

"We own the place," Gerard shrugged.

Brendon walked out of the room for a moment and returned with a giant beanbag chair.

Brendon pointed to the beanbag chair, "In."

"Brendon-" Patrick began.

Brendon raised an eyebrow, "In Patrick."

Patrick quietly laid down on the beanbag chair.

"Good," Brendon smiled, "Now it's time for paten-pended, perfected Brendon snuggles."

Brendon sat down next to Patrick and snuggled up to him.

Mikey and Patrick laughed.

Patrick smiled; it didn't reach his eyes, but he looked a little happier, "You guys don't have to do all of this."

"Yes, yes we do. And really we want to," Mikey smiled pulling up his own giant beanbag.

"Yeah, I mean free day at work!" Brendon smiled, trying to act selfish, but Patrick could see right through it.

"I love you guys," Patrick snuggled ever so closer to Brendon.

"We love you too Lunchbox," Brendon giggled.

Gerard, Frank, and Ray walked into the room.

"Okay troops, we brought movies, candy, popcorn, and lots and lots of ice cream," Ray had three bags full of stuff on each arm and three tubs of ice cream cradled to his chest.

Gerard had stacks of movies in his arms and in sacks while Frank had tons of wires, plugs, DVD players, and two duffle bag.

"And I broke into all of your houses!" Frank smiled.

"Why exactly," Mikey looked at Frank suspiciously.

"So I could get these!" Frank opened up the duffle bag on his right arm and pulled out six pairs of pajamas.

Brendon's eyes widened, and he gasped with a wide smile, "Are we having a sleep over?"

"Yep," Gerard smiled, "But if anyone ever asks, it was a work sleepover."

"How did you get into our houses?" Patrick began to sit up to Brendon's chagrin.

Frank just smiled a little manically.

"We don't even know when he left us for you're apartments," Ray shrugged.

"I do, but I have no clue how he got in," Gerard sat down the sacks he had been carrying, "Just like I know that Frank hasn't been in this room for three minutes now."

"What the," Mikey looked around, "Where the hell did he go?"

"Done!" Frank walked into the room with none of the stuff he originally had.

"What did you do?" Mikey moved to help Ray get stuff out.

"I remodeled the conference room into a movie theater. So I'm afraid we're gonna have to relocate because that's where I sat everything up."

"Wait isn't there a giant ass table in there?" Patrick asked, "What did you do with that."

Frank's smile somehow became even more maniacal, "Don't worry your pretty little head Patrick."

"To the movie room!" Brendon declared pulling the beanbag chair, that Patrick still occupied, behind him.

"Whoa, Brendon!" Patrick white-knuckle gripped the beanbag chair.

Gerard, Frank, Mikey, Ray, and even Brendon just laughed.

 

 

PXP

 

 

Brendon's comm. beeped.

"Ooh, the pizza guy must be here!" Brendon got up, "I'll be right back."

"Want us to pause the movie?" Gerard moved for the remote.

"No, it's okay," Brendon walked out of the room.

Brendon reached the front door opening it, "Hello!"

Then he saw who it was.

"Wait," Pete caught the door that Brendon tried to slam.

"What are you doing here, Pete?" Brendon sighed.

"I'm here to see Patrick," Pete looked almost desperate.

"He's not here," Brendon's face closed off.

"Yes he is," Pete stepped inside.

"Hey, did I say you could come in?" Brendon glared.

"I'm sorry, just, ugh. I know he's not home because I've been waiting for him to get home for five hours now. I know that sounds creepy, but I'm desperate. You cancelled your date with Spencer because you needed to 'comfort someone', and before you ask, no he didn't tell me I overheard him talking to Ryan. So I know you're comforting Patrick, and you weren't at your house so I took a guess and came here. He's here right?" Pete looked broken.

"It's none of your business," Brendon's face showed none of the sympathy he felt for Pete.

"Please," Pete's voice cracked, "Please let me explain. Andy told me that Patrick saw me kiss some guy. That's not what happened; I swear on my and my mother's life. Hell I swear on everyone in the worlds life," Pete held his hand to his heart, "The guys name is Jon. He's a friend on mine; in fact Ryan has a giant crush on him. We were talking when we walked into my shop, and he saw his ex walking towards us. She hadn't yet seen us so he said, 'Do me a favor," before I could respond he pulled me with him against the wall. He made it look like we were making-out, but I promise our lips never touched! Everyone there will testify to that being the truth; even Jon will! But Patrick doesn't know that, and I've been trying for the last two days to get a hold of him. So please, Brendon, please let me talk to Patrick."

"Pete," Mikey sighed walking over to Brendon and Pete.

"Brendon, Mikey, he means _everything_ to me. I-I can't lose him. I _love_ him!" Pete pleaded.

Mikey looked to Brendon, and Brendon looked to Mikey.

Then Brendon turned to Pete, launching himself into Pete's arms, "I knew it! I knew you weren't a bad guy, and I knew you loved Patrick!"

Pete and Brendon looked to Mikey with pleading eyes.

And well, no one can say no to Brendon's puppy dog eyes, "Okay."

Pete sighed in relief, and Brendon smiled.

"Okay, here's what we're gonna do: I'm gonna text Ray to get Gerard, Frank, and himself out of the movie room without letting Patrick leave. Once they get here we'll send you to talk to Patrick. As soon as you're inside the room we'll lock it from the outside so that Patrick has to talk to you. Whenever you're done text us, and we'll get you out," Mikey looked at Brendon and Pete, "Got it?"

"Got it!" Brendon responded while Pete simply nodded.

Mikey pulled out his phone, and Pete sat his hands on Brendon and Mikey's shoulders, "Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Don't mention it," Mikey shrugged, "But I swear to god if you ever hurt Patrick again, even if it's fake, all of us will viciously murder you."

"I'd kill myself before I'd ever hurt Patrick," Pete said with such complete seriousness that Mikey was actually a little worried for his sanity.

Brendon smiled, "That's sweet . . . in a really creepy way."

"Okay, so ask questions later?" Ray nodded to Pete.

"Yeah that would be best. The story's a little complicated," Brendon sighed.

"I assume Mikey already gave you the 'A terrible fate will behold you if you ever hurt Patrick again talk', right?" Gerard raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, he did," Pete looked at the door to where Patrick was like he was going to bolt for it as soon as they gave him the chance.

Which is exactly what he did as soon as Brendon said, "Go get your Patrick back."

 

 

PXP

 

 

"Patrick," Pete sighed in relief as soon as he saw Patrick.

Patrick's eyes widened, "What are you doing here?!"

"I came here to explain," Pete paused the movie that was playing.

"What's there to explain. You fuck other people besides me. Fine, all I ask is that I never have to see you again," Patrick turned away from Pete.

"Patrick I don't fuck other people!" Pete stated firmly.

"Please, please just here me out. If you still hate me after it then I promise . . ." Pete gulped, "You'll never see me again."

"Fine, explain," Patrick gave Pete a fake smile.

"I didn't kiss Jon. The guy who you thought I kissed didn't kiss me. I promise I swear to god Patrick! You can ask anyone there they will tell you I didn't!" Pete was going to say more, but Patrick interrupted him, "I was there Pete!"

"I saw him kiss you! And you didn't stop him!" Patrick yelled, reaching his limit.

"Jon pulled me against him after saying 'Do me a favor' I couldn't even respond! And he didn't put his lips on mine he made it look like a kiss because his shitty ex walked by! I promise I would never cheat on you Patrick!" Tears began to fall from Pete's eyes.

"Patrick you are my _everything_! When I'm the biggest douche in the world you still forgive me! When I feel shitty and terrible you hug me! When I'm at my lowest you're there for me! When I'm at my highest it's always because you're there! Fuck Patrick I showed you my kid! I would never have done that if you didn't mean something to me! I _love_ you Patrick! I love you so, _so_ much! I'm sorry!" Tears like rivers ran down Pete's cheeks, "I'm so, so sorry! I promise I never cheated on you! I love you Patrick!"

"Pete I-" Patrick walked over to Pete, "You promise you didn't cheat on me?"

"I promise, a million times I promise! Patrick you're my everything! Why would I ever cheat on you?!" Pete cradled Patrick's head in his hands.

"I love you too," Patrick whispered, laughing while tears fell from his own eyes, "Fuck Pete, I was so hurt."

"I know," Pete peppered kisses over Patrick's face, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Patrick surged forward to kiss Pete deeply.

"I love you Patrick," Pete pulled away looking into Patrick's eyes, smiling.

"I love you too, idiot," Patrick laughed.

"AWWWW," Came two voices then, "Oh crap!"

"Brendon? Frank? Were you two listening this whole time?" Patrick turned to the door.

"No?" Brendon responded.

"Brendon." Patrick admonished.

"Yes, we were," Brendon sighed.

Pete laughed, "You can open the door now."

"Yay!" Brendon said as soon as he opened the door to see Pete and Patrick holding each other.

Pete smiled, arm tightening around Patrick.

"You know what this calls for?!" Frank held up his phone.

"Couples movie night!" Gerard finished.

"I'm calling Spencer!" Brendon ran out of the room.

"I'll call Gabe and William." Frank said already typing out their numbers.

"I'll call Ryan. Spencer'll be too exited to hear from Brendon to remember," Pete pulled out his phone.

"Order has been restored to the kingdom!" Brendon called running into the room and stealing Pete's keys.

"Either I'm driving or you stop me!" And Brendon was running into the hallway.

"I think we gave Brendon too much sugar," Patrick sighed as he and Pete ran after Brendon.

 

 

PXP

 

 

"Okay, what movie do we watch?" Gerard pulled out a stack of movies.

After picking up all of their friends (and after Jon introduced himself to Patrick apologizing profusely the entire time) the boys sat down to watch a movie.

The only problem was that everyone wanted to watch a different movie.

Of course Brendon wanted something animated, Frank wanted something scary, and Pete wanted something Romantic.

So Patrick came up with a compromise, "Okay the top three genres are Scary, Animated, and Romantic. So what about Corpse Bride?"

"Patrick!" Pete looked down at Patrick, "You've seen Corpse Bride?"

"Of course I have," Patrick shrugged, "If you know Brendon long enough you'll eventually see every animated movie known to man at least twice."

Pete smiled down at Patrick after giving him a quick peck, "You're totally my soulmate."

"Okay Corpse Bride it is!" Gerard pulled put the movie out from his immense collection of movies.

Ryan stared at the stack of movies with a single eyebrow raised, "How many movies do you own?"

Gerard didn't say anything for a moment, "Well, I guess I lost track around five-hundred something."

"You have over _five-hundred_ movies! Why did I not know this?!" Brendon exclaimed from his place on Spencer's lap, careful as to not disturb Spencer's broken ribs.

"No clue, let's get this movie started," Frank snuggled into Gerard as the movie began to play.

After an hour and seventeen minutes worth of jokes about Ryan's genetic relation to the main character the guys decided to have an all night movie night.

The last person to fall asleep was Pete after Patrick quietly kissed him goodnight from his position atop Pete's chest.

"Goodnight love," Pete whispered to Patrick's sleeping form before he let blissful oblivion take him.

 

 

PXP

 

 

"Is it okay for you to just leave your car there?" Patrick swiped his train card moving to take one of the many empty seats.

"Is someone going to try to break into it?" Pete scanned his ticket moving to sit next to Patrick.

Patrick shrugged, "Probably not, no."

"Then it's probably fine," Pete snaked his arm around Patrick's shoulders.

"Huh, no one else is here," Patrick looked around the empty train.

"I guess not a lot of people have somewhere to be at three-thirty in the morning," Pete pulled Patrick closer to himself.

"It's three-thirty?! Why did we have to leave so early?" Patrick thought back to how Gerard and Frank had shepherded everyone out after cleaning up.

"They might have somewhere to be. You never know with them," Pete chuckled.

"True," Patrick laid his head against Pete's neck.

"Are you tired?" Pete watched as Patrick simply nodded in reply.

"Sleep, I'll wake you up when it gets to our stop," Pete whispered in Patrick's ear.

"What is our stop?" Patrick asked through a yawn.

"My place unless you have objections."

"No objections," Patrick barely whispered already drifting off.

Before he let himself drift off he realized the seat he took, 'This is where Pete and I first met.'

"Been awhile since we've seen this view," Pete whispered to himself.

Patrick began to laugh.

"What're you laughing about?" Pete pecked Patrick's lips a few times before letting him answer.

"I was just thinking the same thing," Patrick smiled leaning into Pete's strong chest and drifting off, content in the knowledge everything was going to be okay.


	7. I Now Pronounce You . . .

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few months down the road.

"'Husband and husband'," Brendon quoted excitedly in his best regal voice, "Then Frank practically jumped Gee. Seriously Frank was like an octopus; I didn't even know it was physically possible to wrap your limbs around someone like that!"

"Wow that sounds amazing," Jon smiled then grimaced, "God I can't believe I missed their wedding. My body picks the absolute worst times to get sick."

Spencer patted Jon's back in a comforting manner, "Don't worry, man, Gerard and Frank understood. Especially after you told them that if you knew for a fact you wouldn't throw up everywhere and ruin their wedding you'd be there. They totally got why you couldn't come."

"Thanks Spence," Jon smiled.

"No problem," Spencer moved past Jon to wrap his arm around Brendon's waist.

"Oh, and thanks again Patrick for stepping in for me as the wedding photographer; the pictures were really beautiful!" Jon clapped Patrick on the back with a warm smile after returning to Ryan's side.

"Anytime Jon," Patrick laughed as Pete hip checked him with a whispered "told you, you did great".

The rest of the lunch with Brendon, Spencer, Jon, and Ryan went on with an easy banter they'd come to know and love.

 

PXP

"Pete, babe, have you seen my tie?" Patrick asked nervously, staring at every drawer he had opened yet still not seeing the aforementioned garment.

"Patrick," Pete sighed, wrapping his arms around Patrick's waist from behind and kissing his neck, "You don't need to be nervous. My parents love you. Like seriously, I think they love you more than me."

Patrick laughed quietly, immediately relaxing in Pete's arms, "I know, but you said this dinner was important, and I just want to look nice for your parents, and-" Patrick huffed out a long breath, "I just don't want to look like a weird idiot in front of your parents."

"You could never look like weird idiot in their eyes. Think about it Patrick; they did raise _me_  after all. So really you have nothing to worry about," Pete bent down to give Patrick a kiss and was about to go farther, but the doorbell rang.

"They're here! Holy shit where's my tie?" Patrick turned in a circle before Pete quickly handed him a tie, "Thank you."

"Are you ready?" Pete smiled at Patrick's raised eyebrow.

"Ready as ever," Patrick sighed through a smile at Pete.

Pete calmly took Patrick's hand and walked to the door opening it as soon as he reached it, "Hey Ma."

"Oh my baby boy, you look so handsome! And Patrick! Oh sweetie you're just so darling! I love your tie!" Mrs. Wentz walked inside spewing a whirlwind of comments and questions at Pete and Patrick, "Have you been eating properly? Patrick dear have you made sure he eats properly? Oh, and don't let him skimp out on doing the dishes! I know he hates those! If he doesn't treat you right Patrick, you know to call me because I'll whoop his ass! Pete I know for a fact you aren't this clean, so you better be real nice to Patrick for keeping this house so clean!"

"Hello Mr. and Mrs. Wentz," Patrick chuckled quietly.

"Hello Patrick," Mr. Wentz greeted calmly with a kind smile, "Dale, sweetie, say hello before you go off on a tangent."

"Oh, be quiet you!" Mrs. Wentz laughed, "Hello Patrick, it's always great to see you."

"Thank you Mr. Wentz."

"Now, now, Patrick, I told you, you can call me Dale," Mrs. Wentz smiled, teasing Patrick.

"See Patrick, I told you they like you more than me. They haven't even said hello to me yet," Pete smiled, arm around Patrick's waist.

"Well, sweetie it's not our fault Patrick's more interesting," Mrs. Wentz shrugged with a teasing smile.

"Hello son," Mr. Wentz greeted with a half hug.

"Hi dad," Pete laughed.

PXP

The dinner went on with the same teasing air the greetings had, soon enough Mr. and Mrs. Wentz had left, and Pete and Patrick were alone.

"Hey Pete, what was the extra important part of that dinner? It just seemed like a normal dinner," Patrick asked as he washed the dishes.

"It was just for confirmation really," Pete called from their bedroom.

"Confirmation for what?" Patrick called back, drying the last dish.

"That it was the right timing for what I'm about to do," Pete said now behind Patrick.

"What are you about to do?" Patrick asked turning around with a confused expression on his face.

"This," Pete smiled slowly getting down on one knee while opening a tiny box for Patrick, "Patrick Martin Von Stump, would you like to spend the rest of your days with a crazy and annoying man-child who happens to be head over heels for you, making said crazy man-child the happiest man on earth?"

Patrick covered his face, tears of joy pricking his eyes as he frantically nodded, "Yes, god Pete always."

Pete jumped up with the widest smile Patrick had ever seen on his face, pushing the ring onto Patrick's finger, and quickly kissing him deeply, "God, Patrick I'm so happy. I love you so, so much!"

"I love you too, Pete, with all my heart," Patrick smiled then looked down at the ring, "Pete is this engraved?"

On Patrick's finger sat a gold ring with a diamond in the middle; little squiggly lines surrounded the diamond making it look like a sun and on the back was an infinity sign.

"Look on the inside," Pete smiled, holding Patrick's hand.

Patrick pulled off the ring and looked on the inside.

"Pete," Patrick breathed out with a wide smile, tears that had been waiting to fall finally leaving his eyes as he kissed Pete thoroughly and lovingly, "It's beautiful."

Inscribed on the inside of the ring was "To Patrick: the love of my life, my sanity, my partner in crime, my lifeline, my sun."

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING THIS, AND PLEASE COMMENT!  
> Have an ultra-fabulous day and/or night!


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